The Four Sided Coin
by Zura
Summary: An introspective Warden takes a moment to reflect on his personal armory and the special meaning behind a handful of the items there. Each had its place in his haphazard journey and were not just mere items but reminders of how things could have gone so, so differently. Male Dalish Warden, second of the "Bitter Memories" series.
1. The Bow

Amaranthine. My keep. Light comes pouring in from a set of windows twice as high as a man. It is a small room by royalty standards but well stocked. An increasingly worn desk cluttered with missives and requests pile up as new ones arrive daily. Hanging on the walls and fastened snugly to armor stands were weapons and equipment bought, stolen, forged, found or reclaimed from years of constant battle. Each one served a different purpose or use while some I am simply fond of. All had memories associated with them, a place, a particular battle, a special significance. One could trace a journey that began simply and grew ever more complex just by looking at the items in this room.

Some were more hard earned that others. Some were long since replaced in terms of functionality but kept for other reasons. I did not think myself a sentimental elf but the proof was just a few short feet away. I take a break from running the city and the order to stretch my legs and admire my wall. With the post Blight routed it was peacefully quiet and achingly dull in Ferelden. For the first time in a long time there was no one to kill, no crisis hanging over my head. It was good for the first month or so I'd say. I practice every afternoon but it was difficult to mimic the joy of real combat. I was a warrior that no longer had a war to throw himself into. I think often about heading to the Deep Roads for some action but I know that I am needed here. It would make more sense to wage an underground war to stop the darkspawn from finding Archdemons but garnering support outside Orzamar would be rough indeed. I listed it among my highest priorities but there was so much rebuilding to do that pet projects would have to wait.

My old longbow catches my eye. It is a simple elven weapon done in tradtional Dalish style by Master Ilen with images of Andruil and my personal identification mark. It hasn't been strung for some time but it is still a sturdy, weather resistant instrument. I once carried it far from my beloved home to Ostegar with the taint eating away at me. By the time I came back to the trees with it across my chest, much had changed.

* * *

We walk sullenly on the empty road to Lothering. With two Wardens the three of us avoided the main horde easily and made good time going north. There was very little chatter between us and we were all virtually strangers still. My mind worked overtime as the land grew greener and our position becomes more and more clear. It was time to head north by north east and I veer slightly off the path that direction.

"Keep straight, we'll be in Lothering in a couple days." Alistair said glumly but I ignore him.

"Did you hear me?" he asked after a few moments.

"I heard." I respond. "I'm not going."

"Not going? What do you mean not going?"

"I'm joining up with my clan." I say over my shoulder.

"You what!?" he said in panic.

"You heard."

"You can't just leave! We need you! The Wardens need you! Ferelden!" he cried.

"Creators damn all of those." I turn to say to him but keep walking. "I'm somewhat cured, I'm going home."

"Hey! You can't do that!" he yelled shrilly. "Morrigan, say something!"

"This was your idea, elf." she pointed out.

"No it wasn't, witch." I turn around and walk backwards a few paces. "I was forced into this mess. If the darkspawn don't kill us, it seems other humans will do their best. I hope you all die fighting each other."

"This isn't just our problem! They will come for the Dalish too!" Alistair shouted.

"We'll be waiting." I call back as the distance between us increased.

"You swore an oath!" he said loudly and I slow to stop in my tracks. "You must honor it!"

Turning to regard both of them I decree, "An oath under penalty of death is no oath at all. Don't follow me. If I see you again, I will cut you."

Leaving them standing there I continue the way I was going with a light heart. With a bit of luck, things would be back to normal in just a few days.

* * *

Weaving through the trees I know that I am close. Bow in hand and quiver open I stalk through the green like a ghost, floating effortlessly over rock and moss. Keeping an eye out for potential meals my keen senses are soon disturbed by watchful eyes looking on me from nearby. In an instant I know that I surrounded but I make no move to take up a defensive position. Only other Dalish who knew what they were doing could have snuck up on me like this and if they wanted me dead it would have happened already. Instead of dropping my bow as a _shem _might I loop it backwards over my head so the upper limb fit snugly on my shoulder. The taut string crosses my body diagonally and keeps the weapon from moving too much as I place my hand over my heart. Lowering my head to the seemingly empty forest I say aloud, "_Aneth ana_."

The hunters melted out of the foliage and trees with bows drawn. I don't put my hands up; it would indicate that I had reason to fear them. One came forward and said, "_Aneth ana, lethallin_." I don't recognize him nor any of the others, not that I thought I would. I was only a child during the last _Arlathvhen_. "What brings you to our camp?"

"I have terrifying news from the south as well as am in need assistance locating my clan. May I speak with your keeper?"

"Of course." he said and only then did their draw strings ease in unison. "Come, we are not far."

True to his word it was only a short run to the clearing they had set themselves up in. This clan was considerably larger than mine and nearly all of them watched us approach as if we were made of gold. Up ahead is a bald old man that I knew I'd seen before and remembered his sour disposition but nothing else.

"_Aneth ana_." he said as I come up to him and the hunters dispersed to find something more useful to do.

"_Ma serannas, hahren_." I bow my head.

"I am Zathrian, and I'm afraid I don't have much good news for you." he said right away.

"Do you know who I am?" I blink.

"A keeper for centuries I have been. I know a clan's _vallaslin _and ancestors better than anyone. And I have seen enough generations of your mothers and fathers to recognize the same faces over and over."

I have to chuckle at the thought. "I wonder how many of us stole our looks from our parents over the long years."

"More than you would care to think about." he answered and I am inclined to agree. "But as I said, I cannot offer you much aid. Your clan has already moved far to the north and we are stuck here."

My heart sank upon hearing this news. It was a possibility of course but I had to hold out the hope that they had been delayed. It could be a year before they turned around and headed south again. Even then, finding them would be no easy task.

"I'm sorry. I know this must be a difficult time for you but we have our own set of problems." Zathrian said. "Unless you have a pressing desire to go blindly north in search of them, I have urgent need of skilled warriors here."

"More than you know, _hahren_. There is much we must discuss about the battle in the south."

* * *

Coming back from my patrol I enter the clearing unharassed. The hunters knew me by now and I had begun to accept the fact that it might be a while before I saw my own clan again. Perhaps it was time to put down some roots here until I could reach them on the return trip. My brothers and sisters in this place were in dire straights as well, they had werewolves attacking, a couple of youths missing, wounded that couldn't be healed. I had a moral obligation to help in any way I could.

I spot a cluster of people by Zathrian whom I do not recognize and they are oddly tall. When I get closer I am shocked to realize that it is Alistiar, Morrigan and a third human, a woman. All of the thoughts fly out of my head and I rapidly cover the distance to them.

"Hey!" I shout angrily. "What are you doing here!?"

"Ah, he does remember us. See, I told you." Alistair joked to Morrigan.

"Do you know this Warden?" Zathrian asked in confusion.

"Know me?"

"You didn't tell them?" the witch was baffled.

"Tell us what?" the keeper's First Lanaya wondered and I burn a hole through the humans with my eyes.

"He _is _a Gray Warden." Alistair explained. "Not just that, but we're the only two left in all of Ferelden. He's..._fifty percent _of the Wardens in this country."

The elder Keeper and the First turned astonished gazes to me and I sullenly shift dirt around with my feet. "Is this true?"

"Yes."

"Why did you not tell us?" Lanaya grilled me.

"It matters not." I huff. "The human's infighting got them all slaughtered and I barely escaped just as I said. I fulfilled my obligation by doing my part. There are no Gray Wardens anymore, just him and some old papers."

"Treaties! Treaties we signed that you are bound to deliver!" she exclaimed.

"Hold your tongue, woman!" I snap.

"I will not! You have deserted and brought shame on your whole clan!"

"Deserted!?" I shout. "By what right was I 'conscripted' into this two man army!? A human decree!? A foreign order!?"

"The Wardens are highly respected for what they do, even by your own keeper." Zathrian said tersely. "You should have told us right away."

"Have you all lost your minds!?" I berate them. "I'm at fault for wanting to return to my clan when I was led to nothing but a swift death by the same people who stole our lands!? Shall we all bend knee to the first human that wanders by!?"

"You know you did wrong-" Zathrian started but I storm past them.

"Falon'Din take all of you! I'm heading north!" In a wretched mood I stomp away from them west towards the edge of the wood.

Creators damn them to the underworld.

* * *

"Weeeeeeell...that was familiar." Alistair sighed when he was out of earshot.

"Bit of an attitude on that one." Morrigan agreed.

"We really should go after him. We're going to need his help."

"No, let him go." the Keeper advised. "He'll be back."

"How can you be so sure?" the third human Leliana asked. "There is so much hate in his heart."

"It is a feeling I know well." Zathrian admitted. "And I know where it comes from. He will not abandon us here, no matter what he said. Let him cool off. Now, let us speak more of our situation."

The lone Warden watched the elf disappear and shook his head. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

It took the rest of the day to reach the edge of the forest and I immediately started heading north when I hit the treeline. This is what I should have done from Ostegar, what I should have done the moment I was cured by the darkspawn taint, if only temporarily. Still fuming and muttering to myself I resolve to not stop until I had no more light to see.

I had been walking for hours when I felt them and at first did not understand what was happening. Standing there dumbly alongside the trees I have to shake myself out of disbelief and take up a position as a pack of darkspawn headed right towards me. Putting my back to a tree and well hidden by underbrush I pull my bow from my body. Opening my quiver I stab a handful of arrows down on the mossy earth before me. Nocking one I breathe steady and reamin calm even though they shouldn't be this far north and so close to a Dalish clan.

I see them before I hear them and that is not a good sign. They emerge from the trees at a crisp jog and even the pleasant forest air is corrupted by their polluted flesh. Lightly armed and armored for long distance travel I understand now that this a scouting party. It was likely they were heading south with fresh details about the lay of the land; they weren't going to make it there.

They pass me by as I draw and aim for the neck of the last one, a smaller scout. The pack slows to look around and I realize that they can sense me as much as I can sense them. Inhaling a breath I loose on the exhale and the arrow takes him just where the shoulder joined the throat. The others pull weapons but don't see me and I use the invaluable seconds to draw again. The second shot takes one in the eye and the survivors know then exactly where I am. They roar as they rush the bushes and I have time for one last shot at the knee of the closest one. He goes down and I drop the bow to yank my Dar'Misu free as the last one standing hurls a throwing axe in my direction. Ducking to the right it crashes through the foliage near my head far too close as I then bound forward to meet the scout head on. We slam together with jarring force and bounce off each other rather painfully.

Taking the chance to get my longsword into my right hand the creature comes at me bellowing as a wild beast does. It is strong, heavy handed but relatively slow and without finesse. I work at his sword arm while he lashes out at me until he comes just a little too close. Knocking his weapon to the side with my main weapon I follow it with the parrying dagger and ram it cleanly through his forearm. It can't hold on to its weapon and I adjust my grip to put both hands on the longsword. It summons a shriek from its chest in defiance as I swing horizontally and take its head off.

Kicking down the headless body standing upright for a grotesque few seconds I advance on the last one hobbling towards me. It cannot maneuver very well and I run in circles around it opening small wounds before inflicting mortal ones on his torso. It falls face down in the grass and I hack overhand again and again until it stops moving. Its back it lacerated mush as I pant in lungfuls of air reeking of copper and foul contagion. There were only four of them but they could have given the wrong-

The blackened broadsword of the one below me had blood on it, fresh blood from the last day or so and it wasn't mine. Picking it up I find the weapon to be much heavier than my light blades and far less graceful but recently used nevertheless. None of the bodies had self inflected wounds but their weapons had new coats of blood over older stains. Checking them all the first one I shot had something on it that wasn't crusted cruor and I hunch down to get a look at what was snagged on the edge of the heavily chipped sword. There is a bit of cloth stuck into a crack soaked red and dried to the weapon. My stomach flips as I tug on the tiny scrap and bring it to my face. I want to be wrong so badly but there is no mistaking it: the cloth was undoubtedly Dalish.

Leaving my arrows I nearly forget to collect my bow before setting upon the trail of the scouting party. It is easy to locate and follow their grass-trampling path for about an hour. I do have to stop to pick it up again a couple of times and readjust but it doesn't take long to find what I held out the mad hope I wouldn't. Just inside the treeline was a the scene of a battle...no...a killing. The two young hunters missing from Zathrian's clan were here, brutally chopped down by the darkspawn and mutilated far beyond what was necessary to kill them. The boy, his _vallaslin _barely dry, was shot in the back with a barbed arrow. It appeared he suffered multiple wounds beyond that like he struggled through it to keep defending himself. The young Dalish maiden did not go without a fight either and darkspawn blood was on the knife still clutched in her hand. Nearby I find the body of a fifth scout who had tried to crawl away but expired only fifteen feet or so from them.

I try to tell myself that they died bravely. I try to convince myself that this was a fluke and they had simply wandered too far from the protection of the clan. I want to believe that humans could have been responsible for exactly this kind of thing and were not any better but I know in my heart that it isn't true. My fists are clenched so hard that my knuckles are white and I come to be aware that I am shaking. These two could have been – should be – two happy elves contributing to their clan's prosperity for years to come and possibly blessing it with strong children as well.

My chest heaves up and down and it is not sorrow that grips me but the blackest, foulest, most terrible rage. I want to kill and not just in defense but in limitless slaughter until the darkspawn drown in a river of their own cursed blood. It wasn't just these youths or the fact that it could have been people I knew either. I had run from what everyone was trying to explain and the two mangled bodies here brought reality crashing down on me. These creatures were going to murder every last Dalish in Ferelden and our disparate clans would not be able to resist them, not with their own divisions and problems keeping them apart. My inborn hatred of humans had made a fool of me and everyone else had been right, even Alistair. I couldn't bear to face them all again but I would have to no matter my shame.

It took me about an hour to bury them properly and find sturdy enough saplings for them. Their weapons would be brought back to the people that another might take them up. They had earned the right to be buried in their armor. I didn't want to go back, I didn't want to be the one to break the news to two crying mothers but I was going to so that the Creators might see my penance. There was what had to be done and what I wanted to do didn't matter anymore. I vowed to make darkspawn regret the day they attacked a people who had so little left to lose and who would die before they would ever submit again.

* * *

At last into the camp I arrived with dozens of eyes trained on me. Ignoring them I head straight for the keeper's spot but Zathrian is nowhere to be seen. It is his First I make a beeline for and she nods as I approach.

"We thought you might be back." she remarked.

"I must speak with the keeper and humans." I inform her. "And the names of your two missing young ones, what are they?"

"Teague and Raghnailt, did you find them?" she asked worriedly. I stare at her and bring up the bundle in my hand. She looked down at it and then to my chest where she saw that I had more items than I left with. The First covered her mouth and looked away for a few moments. Recovering quickly she asked with a broken voice, "Did you...see...to them?"

"Of course."

"I will inform the parents..."

"No," I shake my head, "permit me. Point them out."

She spoke quietly and indicated how I could recognize them. A thousand thoughts run through my head as I bear the wrapped bundle to a small grouping of men and women a hundred feet away or so. There was a couple sitting next to each other and the female had a red flower in her hair. The male of the pair is fifteen or more years older than me and he seizes up slightly when he realizes I'm coming to them. The entire group stops chatting and rises to stand as I arrive in their midst.

"Raghnailt is your daughter?" I ask the two before me.

"Yes?" the woman came forward past her bond mate. The male's eyes are locked on me and I cannot return the gaze. Taking a full chest of air to steady myself I unwrap the girl's knife with a heavy heart. "No...no, Creators, no!" she put her hands over her mouth.

"_Ir abelas, hahrenen_." I say with my head down and hand the knife to the father. It hits him like a physical blow and his knees buckled when he accepted it. He stared blankly at the object and when he looked back up at me there were tears in his eyes as his spouse fell to pieces at his side. The other women nearby wordlessly wrapped themselves around the mother and the men moved behind the father to put their hands on his shoulders.

"She was cared for." I can barely speak and the words sound as empty as they feel.

"_Ma serannas, da'len_." the male said to me in a cracking voice that fell to a harsh whisper. I walk away from them but I cannot stop my eyes from blurring. Wiping away the moisture I know that I have to remain strong. The spirits are watching me and I would not let them down.

Farther out near the edges of the encampment I find who I am looking for doing laundry with her back to me. My steps are as soft as falling snow but she freezes when I get within ten feet of her. The older female turns very slowly to face me and I don't have to say a word as I cross the last few steps in between us. Her eyes go wide as I reach to my chest and remove the extra bow stacked on top of my own I had slung over my shoulder.

"_Ir abelas_." I say and extend her boy's bow to her. She hits the ground howling and I calmly set aside my things to kneel on the soft earth with her. She throws her arms around me and I hold the person whose world I had just shattered until she could cry no more.

* * *

They sat around me in a circle with the keeper posted by the door as if I would leave again. Hunched over with my forearms on my knees I stare at the floor trying to think of what to say.

"Right, so, were we going to speak?" Alistair broke the silence.

"I don't like you." I start off. "I don't like humans and I don't trust you. But for the moment we have a common enemy. I never wanted to be a Warden, I still don't, but there are worse things than you running around Ferelden. This is a fool's errand we're on but at we'll be encountering a lot of darkspawn on the way. At the very least we can hand these treaties out and pave the way for reinforcements."

"Well, that's an improvement in attitude at least." the other Warden remarked.

"You're going to see this through then, elf?" Morrigan asked.

"I am, witch."

"What changed your mind?"

"That isn't important." I dodge. "What is right now is solving this werewolf problem. I've been scouting east for a week and I've discovered much about their movements. With good fortune we should be able to bypass or ambush the nearest groups."

I look to Zathrian who nods once. "Are you going to follow orders?" Alistair challenged.

"From you? Absolutely not."

"Worth a try." he shrugged.

"I hope you will come to trust us as we will you." the red head offered. I didn't like the idea of a Chantry sister just randomly joining up with us – she sounded like a templar spy to me – but we were in enough trouble that we needed the help.

"We'll see." I reply nonchalantly.

* * *

Night. It's pouring rain and the three humans have decided a fire would be a good idea. I tried to explain that a werewolf infested forest was the last place you'd want to ignite a beacon but apparently they knew better than the elf who grew up in this wood. They probably wouldn't have been able to light it in the first place had the witch not been able to summon a blaze with a flick of her hand. I could not imagine sleeping when there could be an ambush forming around us so I kept watch far enough away to be out of earshot but close enough to hear any suspicious activity.

This was where I belonged, here in the trees working for my people, night chill in the air, cold drops soaking my cloak and braided hair. I could not imagine living or being anywhere else long term yet I had agreed to exactly that. I could always renege, head north or even wait here until my clan came back through. It was a fallacy though. I wouldn't, I couldn't. Not with Zathrian's people in such a sorry state. Not with the images of elven blood and bits of cloth seared into my memory. All my life I hated humans and with joy in my heart I fought against them. These darkspawn were worse than even Loghain. They didn't kill for land, money, power, influence, anything I could understand. They only cared for the black will of the Archdemon that whispered to me in a alphabet of fear every night in my dreams. Humans were vicious, selfish creatures no doubt but they were not a Blight.

The witch thinks she's surprised me but she hasn't. The lovely pitter-patter of the invisible rain sings to me like a musical instrument and her quiet steps are discordant notes breaking the harmony. "You may approach." I say still facing the dark wood before us. She comes to sit beside me with her cloak shrouding her face just like mine.

"Can't sleep?" she joked, knowing that I disapproved of the fire. Her senese of cruel humor was getting easier to understand bit by bit. I assumed she was getting used to my disdain of her race. I don't respond.

"Why do you camp away from us?" she asked. "You must be positively freezing."

"You get used to it." I mutter.

"I have wards set up. If a nug moves within fifty feet of us, I'll know."

"How nice." I comment.

Minutes tick by and I forget she's there until she speaks again. "I've been watching you. You move like an animal, tasting the wind, running your fingers along the tree trunks, smelling the grass. Your swords are wielded as if they were parts of your arm. And you guard your bow jealously, almost like losing it would be the end of the world."

I don't know what her angle is here but I answer, "Master Ilen made it for me. I lost mine in the cave that cursed me and set this whole story into motion. He is a rare talent in a craft with precious few masters and I intend to keep the bow with me a long time."

"Did he make your arrows as well?"

"No." I shake my hooded head. "I did."

"They are a notch better than most. Do you count yourself among the masters of your clan?"

"My craftsmanship in mediocre at best." I admit. "My specialty is not in the making of weapons but the using of them."

"Yes." she agreed. "There is something different about you. Even among the Wardens your ferocity is unmatched. I watched your fellows hack clumsily at the darkspawn in the Kokari while you struck them like a lighting bolt. It was a sight to behold."

I don't know what to say and my keeper once told me that this was a sign from the Creators to keep quiet. She is silent as well a spell before climbing to her feet. "Get some rest, Warden. You're no good to us half asleep."

She left me in the dying light of the campire and her warmth lingered on the spot next to me a while longer. I went over the brief conversation we had in my head until both were gone.


	2. The Knife

Lake Calenhad. The Circle had been saved at great effort and more than one close call. I never could have dreamed what the Fade would be like and that I would have to fight for my life just to wake up. There were a lot of things happening lately that I never thought I would do. I would be lying though I said that I didn't love every minute of it.

I'd grown used to not sleeping well around humans and in their buildings, not to mention the dreams that dogged me when I closed my eyes. Everyone else was exhausted from the final battle atop the tower with a powerful pride demon and rightly so. I was too for that matter but my mind wouldn't shut off and my body wasn't comfortable here. I find myself wandering the great library during the wee hours trying to get a grip on the amount of knowledge held in this one place. I had never seen so many books contained in one room and it was a little overwhelming at first. Confining myself to the zoology section I am fascinated by descriptions of the amazing creatures all over the world. I read for hours by myself sitting cross legged with a small pile nearby. Of particular interest to me is the now extinct griffons that Wardens used to fly around in centuries past. My job would be so much easier on griffon wing and maybe if the Orlesian Wardens got off their arses to come help us everything would seem less insurmountable. In truth though there was never enough of us; Wardens were counted in dozens, not thousands.

I am so absorbed by my book that I am not aware of her until she crosses into my peripheral vision. When I look up the witch is sidling towards me and I should have known that I wouldn't be left undisturbed for long. Joining me on the floor she puts her back against the wall with only the stack of books between us.

"Can't sleep?" I ask in seriousness.

"I did like a babe, for a spell." she answered as she inspected my small collection. "Call me uneasy sleeping in templar beds."

"All right, Uneasy."

"I'm sorry?"

"Nevermind."

"'The Nug Runs Straighter In The Winter: A Guide To Stationary And Migratory Fauna In Ferelden'. Why do you have this?"

"It's interesting."

"I would be hard pressed to think of a less interesting topic." she raised her eyebrows. "Are these not things you already know about?"

"No." I disagree as I continue reading. "My knowledge of the Brecelian is unmatched but I have never been this far west. And there is much about the world I still do not know."

She made a bemused chuckle that I know I should stop asking about since the answer was usually something rude. Against my better judgment I ask, "And that is funny why?"

"Nothing, nothing." she smirked insolently. "I just find it amusing that you who refuses to use silverware has such a curious mind almost like a proper scholar."

"I'll assume that this is a compliment and not some kind of backhanded insult." I attempt to say with annoyance but am simply too tired.

"What is your reason for not being asleep? Everyone else who battled today is dead to the world." she asked.

"I find the templar beds no more inviting than you. And I never enjoy sleeping indoors."

"Why not? 'Tis warmer, softer, quiet."

"That's the problem. The quiet, the comfort. I feel...like I'm in danger. Like an ambush waits for me the moment I close my eyes."

"Something I wish to know." she abruptly changed the subject. "You've told me many a time of your contempt for humans and that protecting your people is the only reason you're here. Yet I see no elves among the Circle, not even a half-breed. It would have been much easier to kill them or even let them die but you fought tooth and nail to rescue people you've never met."

"...what of it?"

"I only wonder if it is your homeland you fought so vigorously for or the mages themselves...fascinating, don't you think?"

I try to think of a way out but I don't see the harm in telling the truth. "No one should have to live under the oppression of the Chantry for being born different, not even other humans."

"Those mages chose to live under the rules of the templars."

"A vast majority didn't, don't and you know it." I argue. "The threat of fire and templar swords compels them, not joy and free will. I believe most would choose to be apostates if there were no impending threats over them."

She stared at me without saying a word. After a few moments I lift my hand at her expectantly. "What?"

The witch doesn't respond and I add, "Do you have something to say? You're unnerving me."

"When we first arrived the templars were watching my every move, whispering in hushed tones, their discomfort obvious. Now they would not even raise their heads or gazes to me as I passed by, almost as if they were afraid to even look at me."

"Perhaps they have changed their minds about you, now that we've purged their Tower for them."

"Or perhaps they were cowed for an entirely different reason. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

* * *

Weary beyond belief I still had to work out the details with First Enchanter Irving and Knight Commander Greagoir in his office. I was at least out of my armor and Greagoir too looked like a much smaller man without his giant breastplate on. We stood speaking at length about the details, numbers, times and logistics of the army I was building. Ready to adjourn for the night the Knight Commander stopped us for one last topic.

"Now Warden, I don't want to seem ungrateful, for you have done us a magnificent service. But there is a delicate issue that must be resolved immediately." he began.

"Be quick about it, Ser. This has already been one of the longest days of my life." I massage my temple.

"Well, we templars are required to uphold Chantry law, laws of the Maker himself. There is the ah...matter of the apostate you brought along..."

"Greagoir!" Irving scolded. "The Circle is just barely saved and you bring this up? The Warden brought her here in good faith to help!"

My hand falls from my head and I shift my body to the templar. "Let him speak, good mage." I say. "The Knight Commander has every right to voice his concern."

"Yes, well, again, this is not my personal desire but a decree above all of our heads. I humbly request that she be left with the Circle as it remains. Senior Enchanter Wynne has already agreed to go with you. She is a respected mage that will ably take the place of your other companion."

"I hear your request and deny it, Knight Commander. That will be quite impermissible. Let us not speak of this again."

Irving looked to Greagoir who was not responding well to the way I was focused directly into his eyes. He gulped and chose his next series of words very carefully. "Warden, I am, uh, afraid that if you will not, ah, give up the apostate willingly we will be forced-"

I am exhausted from the interminable day, body aching in ten different places but I still pick up Greagoir and smash him into the wall. He is taller than me as most humans are so it is actually easier with a lower center of gravity to lift him off his feet.

"Warden! Enough!" Irving puts a hand on my shoulder but he would need to do a lot more than that to break my grip.

"Listen well, little man." I seethe as I glare into his pained and choking visage. "Touch one hair on her head and the last thing you will see is what few men you have left dead around you before my blade frees your head from your shoulders."

Irving pulls down on my arm with surprising strength for an old man and I drop the templar back to the floor. He is still coughing and sputtering when I storm out of the room in a terrible fury. So much for sleeping.

* * *

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I say glibly to the witch.

"I'm sure." she dead panned. Reaching across herself she produced a fine dagger in a well made sheathe no longer than my forearm and when she handed it to me I was thrown off by its weight. Pulling it halfway free I inspect the high quality temper and material of the edge.

"What's this?"

"A throwing knife. I am told it is enchanted to strike pointy end first a vast majority of the time."

"Where did you get it?"

"Here, among various misplaced objects. May it serve you well."

"This is for me?" I balk.

"Well I certainly can't use it. Hurling objects at enemies is _so_ inelegant."

"Huh. Thank you, witch. I will find great use for this."

"You are welcome, elf." she smiled as she got up and I was mentally taken aback. I can't remember her doing that before this moment.

* * *

The Deep Roads. Darkspawn bodies knee high around my crew. There are screams coming from behind us and it could not have come at a worse time. We were being overrun and now they were hitting our baggage train of supplies from the opposite direction. Servants and dwarven guards hired to protect them were being cut down while we were barely holding the line up ahead. My band killed by the score but there never seemed to be an end to them. Coming at us from a natural land bridge across a yawning chasm the bottleneck it formed was the only reason we hadn't been washed away in a flood of corrupted bodies yet.

Desperately fighting three of them I duck a giant, rusty great sword that cleaves off a chunk of my shoulder armor and I take off the hand holding it with my right side blade. With the left I fend off two with maces trying to get in close and when they make contact with my weapon the shock reverberates painfully up my tired arm. The first, newly handicapped darkspawn howls in pain and I ram the Dwarven longsword between his armor plates. The closer mace wielder takes the Dar'Misaan across his throat but the second swings against it and his momentum knocks the weapon clean out of my hand. Angrily I put remaining sword through his eye and retreat towards the expeditionaries. Some of them are fighting but they're going to be swarmed soon and I realize that if they fall we'll be caught in a fatal pincer movement.

Another scream draws my eye and I see a dwarf woman, a porter we hired back in Orzamar being dragged away. Her face was twisted in terror as two of the foul beasts pulled her by the arms and she struggled to break their grip. My hand moves all on its own and I do the only thing I can for her. Sliding the throwing knife out from my under my forearm I snap my whole body forward and loose the knife end over end. It strikes her squarely in the chest and I do not even have a spare moment to see if she passed quickly or not. My team needed time to clear out the rear attack and regroup or no one would be leaving this place alive. There was only one thing to do and I wasn't getting any younger.

"Fall back! Fall back!" I call out and sheathe my sword to pull my bow over my head. The back line repeated my command who passed it on to the rouges who yelled out to the front. Placing arrows intended to slow and not to kill I cover my fleeing middle line as Alistair and Oghren are the last ones to abandon the front. The other Warden has to physically pull the raging dwarf away from the darkspawn and they run back towards us under a storm of flying missiles and spells. When they are just clear of the bridge Morrigan throws a vicious fireball at the bottleneck that hits so hard it knocks the column of armored horrors back and sends a couple dozen flying over the edge to their deaths.

"Defend the caravan! All hands, defend the caravan!" I yell as they stream past me while fire my second to last arrow. When Alistair is five paces away everyone breaks into a full run to save the dwarves we brought with us. I shout in his fully helmeted face when he gets to me, "Secure the rear! Regroup!"

He nods and hauls Ohgren around to face the enemy who charges forward like nothing had just happened. Alistair is the last to pass by me and I throw my bow down to the thaig's floor when the last shaft flies. The darkspawn column was disoriented and still partly on fire but they would recover soon, too soon to give us a critical break. Drawing a spare knife I got a running start towards the land bridge. Two minutes. I had to give them two good minutes or all of this would have been for nothing.

Hurdling into the pack with both blades in the air I scream for Falon'Din to take me and for all the gods and blessed ancestors to see me. The stone under my feet sizzles from the blood I'm tracking on its super heated surface and there are charred bodies billowing sickening smoke that I have to bound over to get to the column. The first ones aren't quite recovered and fall easily but when I cut them away there are fresh troops waiting to push back. I hold my ground as my blades flurry together with theirs and they open up so many wounds that if I was in a normal state of mind I would have fallen already. I tell myself to ignore the quickly multiplying fonts of my own blood and to just stay on my feet a little longer, give them a few more precious seconds. I don't know how much time passes but my arms start to slow and my vision begins to darken.

Something hits me from behind and knocks me to the ground on top of the bodies at my feet. I try to get up but it's heavy and I have to use all of my limbs to force some kind of upwards motion. Looking up and blinking from the blood running into my eyes I see the darkspawn roaring at me just before something unforgiving hits the back of my head and the lights go out.

* * *

Wynne was sweating, exhausted and slow to move but when her face came up there was relief written on it. No one needed to be told and the crowd around them let out a collective breath. "All right, out, all of you, let him sleep." she ordered wearily and the exhausted band filed from the tent to take a much needed break.

"We move camp in an hour if he's not awake by then. We stay mobile." Alistair announced. If anyone had a better idea they kept it to themselves as they removed arms and armor.

"Stupid elf." Ohgren grumbled. "Stubborn fool wouldn't duck until I asked him the hard way."

"He wasn't even there anymore by then." Zevran noted as he eased down onto an injured leg. "You ever see anything like that before?"

"Ancestor's sodding balls, I've never _heard_ of something like that before. That's something only a Legionnaire would do and they don't come back with stories to tell."

"I worry about him." Leliana said anxiously. "He's so distant much of the time but when it matters most he comes to aid us without concern for himself. You've known him longer than anyone, Alistair. You're the only one that will be able to talk sense into him."

The blonde Warden looked up but Morrigan was already locked onto him with a direct stare. Averting his eyes he said nothing as he continued pulling off his armor.

* * *

When I wake up sore and not dead I have to wonder at first if I had been captured by the darkspawn for special torture. As relatively safe as we could be in the Deep Roads we had set up camp in an abandoned series of homes built against each other. Thick walls surround me and would afford a strong defensive position except I was under assault from within not five minutes from opening my eyes. After being tended to by Wynne I learned the lesson yet again that healing could only do so much and my entire body felt like one large bruise. If the physical pain wasn't enough Alistair entered the room the moment the elder mage left to berate me in a fairly impressive tirade.

"-and what was I supposed to do!? Save Orzamar, Arl Eamon, kill Loghain and the Archdemon by myself!? What would happen when the Dalish learned that you died? What if they backed out of their agreement? Maker's breath, why didn't you think first?"

"I'd slap you in the mouth if I could be bothered to stand up." I unenthusiastically threaten.

"And Wynne! She worked herself up healing you back from the brink! And that's not good! Because...she's old! What if she is so drained that she falls and breaks something!? That's on you!"

"All right! Creators! I get it!"

"Do you!?"

"I'm sorry Alistair, you're right Alistair, I should be more like you, Alistair."

"Don't do that, it's..._demeaning_."

"That's the point, you lackwit."

"Promise me you'll never do something that stupid again." he demanded.

"Ehhhhh..."

"Promise!"

"Fine, fine, I promise, whatever. Now can you please go run along and play, my head is killing me and I feel like a rented mule beaten for sport."

Scowling as he left my room the fellow Warden grants me peace and I yawn as I roll over. Our position was secure and with all the freshly wounded we needed to rest before moving on. I drift back into as pleasant sleep one could get on a piece of rock but when I wake my headache has mostly subsided and my stiff limbs don't hurt as much. It takes me a few moments but I feel the presence of someone else enter the room and whoever it was shut the ancient door behind them. "It's difficult enough to sleep on this slab without people harassing me." I say with my eyes closed and facing the wall.

"Get a lock then." Morrigan suggested and I am not expecting her as she sits on the end of the dwarven cot cut from solid stone.

"If you came to pile it on, get it over with already. I could use a ten course meal and the tender ministrations of an elven masseuse. Elgar'non, at this point I'd let Ohgren massage me. In his armor. Sober."

"I would be far better suited." she said casually. "But I'm not here for that nor am I here to further scold you."

I shift uncomfortably with my inadequate pillow that like my bedroll did not do enough to trick me into forgetting I was uncomfortable. "What do you want then?"

"I simply wish to know why you did it."

"Did what?"

"The Dalish sacrificing – almost sacrificing – himself for his companions? Humans, a city elf, a dwarf? The same one that up until recently refused to sleep indoors or use silverware? This would be unthinkable not so long ago."

Sighing I roll onto my back and prop my head up so I can see her. "What of it?"

"Just surprising is all. Your animosity was palpable for the first couple legs of this journey. More quickly than I expected it seems to have evaporated like a summer dew..."

"Can a man not change his mind?"

"Indeed." she said coyly as she looked me up and down. "Have you changed your mind about anything else lately?"

"We talked about this." I say stubbornly.

"Did we? I can't seem to remember..." she murmured.

"Creators have mercy." I rub my face. "This is a very odd time to bring it up again."

"On the contrary, I think it the perfect time." she disagreed and came to sit by my chest. I back up against the wall like she's on fire but I don't have anywhere to go. My distress brings a smile to her mesmerizing lips and I force myself to stop looking at them.

"You could have died today, and at any moment down here." she reminded me softly. "Do you really want to pass on to the next world never knowing?"

"I can't." I protest but it sounds half hearted even to me. "You're a _shem_."

"What does that matter in this place? Does it matter to the darkspawn who they kill?"

"Well, no, but-"

"And is it not worse that you would die for us wicked _shem_? How can that be less offensive than...more natural things?"

"It's, well, that's different."

"How?"

"I don't have to explain!"

"What are you afraid of?" she edged closer.

"I am never afraid." I declare. "I just can't do it. There are rules."

"If following the rule brings you pain, what use was the rule?" she reasoned and scooted a little closer.

"It is...an old custom..." I stumble as we look into each other's eyes. Her golden pupils are glittering, devious, hungry. "...and...my people are nothing...without our history..."

"Is that so?" she smiled again and I have to look away.

"Please don't make me do this." I beg. I could see her smiling in the corner of my eye as she leaned in close enough for me to feel her body heat and smell her maddening perfume.

"Make you?" she echoed innocently. "I won't make you do a thing, Warden. I am merely here in your company, the two of us alone in your room, the surface world a mile away and danger in every passage we explore. Is it so wrong to wish to be happy if for only a little while?"

"Do you so badly want for me to betray who I am?" I whimper.

"No...I want you to stop pretending who-"

Restrained, carefully masked and pent up frustration is released in that moment when I cut her off. She is taller than me but I easily lift her into my lap and we are in each other's mouths instantly. Never would I admit it to anyone and especially not her how badly I wanted the witch but now there could be no doubt. A person could lie, a look could lie, words especially lied but a body always told the truth. I claw at her flimsy dress in a frenzy and she straightfowardly ripped my shirt open like it was made of paper. Maybe it was the recent near death experience at work but I gave in at that moment.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I think of what would happen if someone heard us, what would happen if my keeper or any of the Dalish found out but then she latched on to my wrist and pulled my hand down onto her chest. For some reason I stop thinking about it and forget everything else going on in the world.

* * *

Denerim. The city was good to me. We'd grown rich in the Deep Roads despite the ludicrous amounts of darkspawn we had to hack through just to stay alive but we'd brought back a fortune to Orzamar. There was so much reclaimed weapons, armor, valuables and ancient curios that we had a serious surplus even after outfitting ourselves with the best gear sovereigns could buy. Here in the human city we had to keep a lower profile of course but I was busy blowing off a shipload of stress that I didn't even know I had been carrying. Things were going swimmingly with Leliana despite them taking a poor turn with Morrigan and I was also coincidentally swimming in other women here. It wasn't difficult shacking up with my admirers nor was visiting the Pearl the terrible experience I thought it would be. I had an ebony skinned beauty and a half-elf girl at the same time, a duelist, ones I couldn't remember when I had the ill-advised notion to try wine for an evening. Swearing off the foul liquid ever again it did at least have a positive effect on Leliana's mood and one fine evening I left her hotel room in the small hours to find my own.

Holding a lantern as I careen down the hall it takes me a couple moments to fumble for the key when I reach my door. I realize halfway to getting it open that someone is in my room and my good mood vanishes in a heartbeat. Muttering to myself in Elvish like a drunk I close my right hand around the throwing knife under my left forearm and nudge the door the rest of the way open. Dropping the lantern and releasing the blade in the same motion I throw it at the first humanoid shape I see. A light flashes and the dagger slams into something impenetrable as I pull another knife three steps from the mage's staff. Morrigan's unflinching countenance halts me with my dagger at throat level and I stop taking in air for a few seconds as everything comes to a confused halt. Letting out a pent up breath as my heart thuds in my chest I lower the weapon.

"Elgar'non woman, I could have stabbed you on accident." I say in relief. Stooping to right the lantern before I burn the inn to the ground I set it on the room's table and close the door. "Do you have a reason for scaring me senseless?" I ask as I find my throwing knife embedded in the wall. Sliding it expertly back into place I wait for a response that isn't coming.

The witch didn't answer and I move farther in to the bedroom alcove. Leaping on and sprawling out on my large bed I yawn and stretch on its luxuriously soft mattress. Morrigan follows me just enough to lean against the wall inside the alcove and be visible. "Come to watch me strip for the night?" I ask, staring up at the ceiling.

"You certainly seem to have gotten accustomed to city life." she commented dryly. "Especially the beds."

"I'm not pleased with the whole roof thing but I will admit, beds have their uses." I grin from my back.

I see the witch cross her arms at the bottom of my vision and I realize that I probably smell of Orlesian perfume or wine or both. As if reading my mind she said, "You certainly seem to be spending quite a bit of time with the bard." she noted and she had my attention now. I sit up to lock eyes with her and neither one of us seem to be in a playful mood.

"And?"

"In case you have forgotten, you and I have shared a bed more times than I can recall."

"I could have sworn we talked about this."

"We talked about your philandering ways recently?"

"Since when do you care?" I slide off the bed as I become incensed.

"I don't appreciate being told one thing when clearly there is another happening." she simmered.

"Give me a break. I told you how I felt and you called me a fool speaking foolish things. Now you insist that you've been wronged somehow?"

"I am _not _just another tramp in a long line. I value myself too much to be one of many breeding mares in your stable." she snapped.

"Ah, that's what this is about." I scoff.

"Do explain, O wise and virtuous Warden." she fake curtsied.

"As usual, this is about you wanting it both ways." I explain contemptuously. "You say you don't care but the second it looks like your plaything might be taken away you can't stand the thought of it."

"You think me jealous?" she gasped.

"You reek of it, and I'll not be berated as if I've done something sordid."

"You did. You lied to my face and do so now."

"I did not!" I raise my voice. "I told you the truth and you mocked me!"

"You seem outraged, yet this has not stopped you from coming to my tent." she pointed out.

"Nor has it stopped you from telling me to leave it!"

"My point being that this will not continue in any way if you seek the company of another. Go run and be happy with your bard then if that's what you want." she said in disgust.

"It isn't! This was your doing!" I point an accusing finger at her. "You act like I've been dishonest when it was you who said that it meant nothing!"

"And all for the best, as it seems you cannot resist the first skirt that passed by." she sneered and I snap.

"That is _it_! How dare you speak to me this way!?" I shout in her face.

"How dare you treat me this way!?" she yelled back. "How little you must value me!"

"I value you as much as I can! I value you the same as all _shem_ women!"

The fire drains from her and condenses into a cold fury. "And what would that be?"

"Not. Much." I enunciate clearly. "It's not like I would bring any of you back to the Brecelian with me when this is all over. It would be an insult to my ancestors to have some _shem _polluting our lands."

Her beautiful face twisted in a mask of rage as I spoke and the room's walls creaked at the force of her terrifying will. It would be a possibly fatal mistake to appear weak now and I was far too angry to back down. She turns on her heel to leave and I call out, "Fine! Go! See what I care!"

She slams the door behind her and in a fit of petty ire I pick up the water vase by the bed and smash it against the wall. Watching the water stream down it occurs to me that I haven't been treating this room that well. "Damn..." I mutter to myself. "Going to have to pay for that..."

* * *

Camp. Back on the road. I'm throwing my knife into a tree as this is what I do for fun. Aiming for a small bit of cloth I pinned to it I practice by campfire light. Throwing, retrieving, throwing, retrieving over and over I fixate on the target and nothing else. Leaning back with the knife I go to release and someone said, "Don't miss." just behind me.

"Yaaaaa!" I cry out halfway through the swing and fling the knife far off course into the darkness past the tree. I whirl around to see Morrigan slinking off towards her tent away from the others and she does not even bother looking back. Grumbling to myself I set off to find my wayward weapon. After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching in the darkened grass I am forced to go get a torch and spend another ten minutes scrounging around before I find it. No doubt the witch was watching from afar quite pleased with herself. On the positive side, that was the first she had spoken to me in over a week. Things couldn't continue like this, I had to be the bigger man here and humble myself because the witch would be six feet under before she did.

Needing to think I go sit by the main fire next to Alistair on a log. He doesn't say anything and neither do I for some time. I'm staring into the flickering flames and forming my speech when he interrupts my thoughts. "You look troubled." he said. It must be obvious if he picked up on it. "More than usual I mean."

"Women. You know how it is." I reply. A few moments pass before he realized I was making fun of him.

"Oh right, very funny." he admonished. "Let's all pick on the guy raised in the Chantry."

"I'm sorry. I'm just giving you a hard time because it always cheers me up."

"You're welcome...I think."

"It's funny though, isn't it? Fate I mean. Had Maric begat you with the queen you'd have been a prince since day one. You'd have been rolling in women from boyhood."

"Is this helping you? Because it seems like you're just being mean for no reason."

"You haven't been entirely unlucky." I sigh. "Relationships are not always fun and eating fruit off each other. The lows scrape equally as deep as the highest high."

"She's still not talking to you?" he asked and I can only shrug in response. "What did you do?"

"Upsetting things were said and done on both sides." I explain. "It's up to me to apologize."

"Of course. Even I know that."

I take a moment to consider something that for some reason I never had up to this point. "We should go wenching."

"What!?"

"Find you a nice girl."

"Absolutely not!" he rebuked.

"Nice boy then? I won't judge."

"No! Damn you, I prefer women!"

"Brothel then?"

"Maker help me!"

"Is that a no?"

"Stop stalling and go talk to your swamp witch!"

"I'm only worried about your happiness, fellow Warden." I say as I stand up.

"Speak of this again and I will assault you!" he threatened as I walk off. At least if I was killed outright in the next few seconds I would be a better mood when I died. Crossing over to her part of the camp I see Morrigan leaning up against a tree reading. Fighting to urge to save this for another day I notice that she is using very expensive, goose down pillows I bought for her to form a makeshift couch in the dirt. This gives me at least a flimsy reason to say something and I go to stand over her.

"You know they sell cushions meant for exactly that kind of purpose. All you're doing is wasting perfectly good fabric." I observe. She looked up at me for a few seconds and then went back to her book. Waiting in vain for some sort of response I add, "We need to talk."

She made a flicking, dismissive motion with her hand and didn't look up. Deciding to throw my life away I sit down right alongside her. Reaching over I gently take the book out of her hands. She's so shocked that they remain in place as if she was still holding it and I set the book face down in her lap. The witch's head slowly swiveled over to look at me like I had just told her I was pregnant with her baby. I return her gaze calmly and reflect at that moment that perhaps I should have invested in strong magic warding equipment before now.

"You have an inconceivable amount of gall." she said icily.

"That's what people tell me." I agree.

"You have forced me to pay attention to you, what do you want?" she asked irritably.

"I want to apologize."

"Kuh!" she made the sound in her throat and rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious."

"You must be seriously deranged if you think you will be able to talk your way out of this."

"I'm not trying to talk my way out. I'm setting things right between us. Or trying to anyway."

"At least you know you face an uphill battle." she frowned.

"Everything is an uphill battle with you."

"Is this your version of an apology?"

"Just pointing out that I routinely wade through a deluge of insults and brave howling storms of sarcasm just for the chance to stand by your side."

The witch turned her head to look at me sidelong. "You've been reading poetry, haven't you?"

"No idea what you're talking about." I lie. "I'm simply noting that I suffer your charms willingly."

She blinked and probably didn't know if I was complimenting or disparaging her. I press on, "The last time we spoke things were said on both sides that neither really meant-"

"Speak for yourself." she crossed her arms.

"All right. I said things in anger that were hurtful and untrue."

"Rather you spoke truth and now regret letting them slip."

"No, that's not correct." I disagree. "You know well your knack for enraging me the way someone else might whistle a tune."

"I don't think what you said is a fabrication. Your clan would indeed disapprove of a 'shem' on your arm, wouldn't it?" she argued.

I look up at the starry sky. This was going exactly the way thought it would. "I'll tell you something I've never told anyone."

The witch raised an eyebrow but did not interject. "Back when we first started, I dreamt of finishing this mad quest and retiring to the forest where I belonged. I would be a hero, a great Dalish son remembered in song. Maidens would throw themselves at me to be my bond mate and I would bless my clan with many fine sons and daughters. That...future is no more."

"What changed?" she asked with a little less venom in her words.

"Everything." I shake my head sadly. "The outside world is not what I thought it would be. There can be no going back for me, not anymore. The Dalish can't prosper without someone with their fingers in Ferelden's many pies, guiding events to their favor."

"Someone like you." she concluded. "A canny, adroit representative like a statesman."

"Exactly."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Because you helped destroy that dream. It is not a clan maiden smelling of oak that I end up with but a razor tongued Witch of the Wilds holding my hand in the end. And again you destroyed it by telling me it wouldn't happen."

"Ah, now we're getting to it." she said. "We are in the middle of a war. I had to be the rational one."

"Yes, and I was heart broken. I reverted back to my old idea of how things would be and went back to considering a _shem_ partner a very short term investment. I didn't think you cared. When we fought in the hotel room I saw the chance to wound you as you did me and like a fool I took it."

"We can agree on that at least." she sniffed.

"It was a stupid thing to say and untrue. I've had a lot of time to think it over and I've realized a couple things."

"I'm all ears."

"I was wrong a few times over. You do care. And I don't want us to continue to be apart. It's not how things should be."

She stared hard at me and I could see her gears turning. "If you think-"

"I do."

"I underestimated. You have the nerve of a bellicose tyrant if you think I would forgive you so easily."

"I never said it was going to be easy." I shrug. "What would you have me do as recompense for my earlier foolishness? I will swear that it will be done."

"You should be more careful with your oaths, Warden."

"Apparently I'm not, very."

"It would be easier for you to go run along with your bard." she said sullenly.

"I told her it was over between us." I reveal.

"Did you now?" Morrigan said in amusement. "And what if I deny you?"

"I suppose I will be a lonely elf."

She snorted lightly but didn't go on. I had to coax something out of her before she had time to think it over or, Creators forbid, time to come up with a list of impossible tasks. "If there is nothing I can do, tell me now. If you send me away, I shall not bring it up again."

The witch stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. She shook her head, "No." My shoulders sink and I sigh deeply. This was always a possibility and one that I had determined was most likely to happen ahead of time.

"_Ma neuvenin, ma vahnen_. I won't return." I say as I climb to my feet. I walk away from the warmth of her campfire and back to my own tent. In a way it was a huge relief to have this dealt with. It didn't make me feel any better at the moment but at least now my torment was over and I could build towards something else. I didn't know what the future would hold but I knew now that it wouldn't include Morrigan.

Ready to fall asleep and forget the whole thing for at least a few hours I crawl into my tent. Big enough for me to stand in it had grown in quality and size along with my increased stature and wealth. I still preferred a bedroll on the ground though; some old habits died hard. My lamps are on and after taking off my muddy boots I drag myself to the rear of the tent across strategically placed furs my servant laid down. Laying on my back I stare up at the blank top of my tent as my mind rearranges things around this this new development.

The flap to my tent opens and I assume it's someone with a problem they want to me solve ranging from "I can't find my good socks, the ones without the holes" to "let's kill my shape shifting dragon mother". Either way I'm in no mood to hear about someone else's problems.

"Whatever this is, can it wait until morning?" I ask without seeing who it was.

The person doesn't leave and I have to turn my head to see what problem walked in my door. Morrigan is craning her head to stand upright just inside the entrance and I sit up in confusion. My face must ask my questions for me and she said, "Hello."

"What are you doing here?"

"Changed my mind." she said flippantly and I immediately make a guttural noise of disbelief. Slipping off her shoes she took careful, dainty steps forward.

"You let me walk back here before telling me that?" I ask in half anger and half hope.

"Feel fortunate that I did not wait a week or so." she shrugged. Picking up a stool she placed it down by me and sat while I cross my legs and sit straight backed in front of her.

"I will allow you access to me on the condition that you are done traipsing about with other women, including but not limited to: amorous wenches, amorous wenches throwing themselves at you in thanks, whores you like to duel with, whores in general, and, little difference, Orlesian bards."

"What if I have to seduce some wealthy baroness or marry a noble's daughter for this Landsmeet thing coming up?"

She opens her mouth to yell and I quickly get in, "Kidding! Kidding! I'm sorry. I make terribles jokes when I'm nervous."

"Idiot..." she muttered. "If I see you breaking this agreement we are done, for good."

"It will be so." I nod.

"And actually apologizing wouldn't hurt either."

"I'm very sorry for all of this _ma vahnen_."

"You're on very thin ice, Warden." she warned. "I don't care to have this conversation again, elf."

"Won't have to, witch."

"One last thing. Stand up."

"Uh..."

"Stand." she said firmly.

Obliging I get to my feet and ask, "Why am-"

She is tall enough to slap me across the face from a sitting position with a good amount of force. It is much more shocking than painful but my jaw drops anyway. Reaching to my cheek which at least had a red hand print forming on it I massage my face and admit, "I may have deserved that."

"At the very least." she agreed. Standing she gripped my neck and kissed me harshly before leaving my tent in a whirlwind. Unsure if I should be outraged, jubilant, aroused or all three I lay back down on my bedroll. For better or worse, I had cast my lot. At least I knew that things weren't going to be dull.


	3. The Alistair

Ostegar. Long after the battle. The darkspawn are all around us but most have moved north with the rest of the horde. We left our baggage and supplies behind; this excursion would be strictly a hit and run operation. We kept it quiet at first but they started coming out of the woodwork and in the snow covered remnants of the war camp we fought a pitched battle. They rushed us by the dozen but we had been fighting as a cohesive unit for a long time by now. Our weapons were high quality and loaded with darkspawn-killing runes, our warriors rock solid, our mages sharp and our blades sharper. I clean murky blood from my longswords with the ample snow and begin searching the area for the chest we had come to reclaim. The others kept watch while my bodyguards stuck close by and unfortunately continued talking.

"Does it think the chest will still be here? This is a fool's errand." Shale complained.

"For once, the golem is right." Morrigan chimed in. "It is probably ashes, along with everything else."

"And also for once the swamp witch says something that doesn't give me the urge to crush it."

"Restrain your golem before I take it apart." she warned me indifferently.

"Quiet, both of you!" I snap. "Creators send me a couple harpies that at least speak less!"

"It's attitude is poor." the stone creature dead panned and I ignore them to hastily rifle through suspicious snow drifts. Minutes of fruitless searching ticked by and I was beginning to worry that both my cantankerous companions were right and the darkspawn would regroup for another assault. Close to ordering a retreat with Morrigan yammering in my ear I see a box shaped mound some thirty feet away. Stomping over to it I brush off the lid of a frozen chest. Excitedly clearing the rest of the damaged box I search my pockets for the key given to me by a dead man. Jamming it in the lock the small piece of brass fits and makes a sound I never get tired of hearing, a mechanical _clunk!_ that signals booty has been found.

Pushing the heavy lid off I am surprised to find a long object wrapped in cloth and a bundle of missives. Expecting a little more I pull out the longer object to hand to Morrigan while I pour over the documents. Quickly scanning the letters I am astonished at the folly of Cailin as well as his shewed diplomacy at the same time. Stuffing the correspondences into my harness I watch my witch unveil a giant longsword that almost qualifies as a two hander. Encased in a magnificent, expensive scabbard I reverently take the weapon from her and pull it a few inches out of the sheathe. Marveling at what I had found I struggle to think.

"Uh...Ah...Alistair...Alistair!" I call out. From across the wreckage of the battle and over the many bodies the Warden jogged, clanking in his heavy plate armor. Pulling off his visored helmet he slowed when he saw what I was holding.

"Is that...?" he trailed off.

I step towards him and he moves back. "Take it." I order.

"No." he shakes his head. "It is a thing I never wished to own."

"I wished to spend my days happily in the forest. We don't always get what we want."

"You keep it. You are the better warrior of us two." he reasoned.

"It isn't about who is better than who at what. This weapon is yours, it's your birth right. It is an instrument of justice, forged underground in dwarven fire and tempered with darkspawn blood. And so are you." I pronounce as the snow falls lightly between us. He pauses and I see a lifetime of worry and self doubt pass behind his eyes.

"I can't. I can't do it. It's too much." he protested miserably. "I never wanted anything to do with this, I've told you a thousand times. You can have it, you can have it all."

"Are you listening to me? The choice is not yours, nor mine. Maric passed it to Cailin and Cailin passed it on to you at this very spot. You will take this sword or Creators help me, I will nail it to your hand."

I extend the weapon towards him where it hovers horizontally at chest level. The Warden finds no mercy or understanding in my face, nor the others when he looks to them. Snow begins to touch down on the masterfully crafted scabbard and still the prince hesitates.

"Let it refuse. I will nail the sword its hand myself." Shale offered.

His shoulders sank and his shield fell to the side off his arm. As if it were on fire the Warden gingerly reached out to take the heavy weapon from me. Trembling he held the fine scabbard in his left hand and drew the blazing weapon out into the cold air. Honed to a razor's edge the great dwarven blade radiated a powerful aura that I have never felt before while its ancient, yellow runes scintillated in the gray light of the overcast day.

"Looks good." I note.

"It...feels alive." he stammered. "This is a sword..."

"Fit for a king?" I smile. "It is time to put aside the Warden, Alistair. Be who you were born to be without fear. Come, we have more ground to cover and more vermin to dispatch."

Putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder I lead the pack north. "Allies, to me!" I bark. " We cross the bridge! Heavy armor up front, move it!"

The cold ruins and colder hearts of the creatures here seek to rob us of all possible warmth but watching Alistair fit his helmet back on to carry the grand blade into battle fills me with a fiery zeal. I am proud of my friend and he will be the lord of all Ferelden before long. First thing's first, somewhere nearby there was a royal set of armor that did not belong in the grip of the darkspawn and our weapons would ask them politely to hand it over.

* * *

The Landsmeet. Denerim. A hundred nobles watching and the room as quiet as a graveyard. "Let me do it." Alistair begged. Teryn Loghain was ready and waiting with his broadsword out and the tip resting on the floor. The blonde Warden was chomping at the bit but too much had gone into this day to lose him in a fight. Not only that, I too want bloody satisfaction and I was going to get it.

"I owe it to my friends, to Cailin." he beseeched me but I shake my head.

"When his head rolls on the floor, you will a be king my friend." I explain. "Kings do not sully their hands with this kind of work."

"I am a Gray Warden first." he asserted. "This is _justice_."

I was hard pressed to think of a good reason why I should fight the teryn instead, better than wanting to very badly. "You will have a part in this." I relent. "But allow me the honor of beating regret into his bones first."

He wasn't happy but nodded so I walk out to face the teryn. He was an old soldier, comfortable in the heaviest plate mail and would have a significant reach advantage. I take off my helmet and toss it aside. My bow, quiver, longswords and almost all of my knives are next. My gloves and harness remain if nothing else to protect against being lightly touched by the sword. A single clean blow meant I would lose and to lose meant to die. I could not go just yet, not with the Archdemon ready to march. I dreampt of it almost every night and I certainly hope that it dreams of me. It and I are destined to meet as the unstoppable force collides with the immovable object.

Ready to go I circle Loghain and he views me contemptuously as he had from the start. He had the edge in size and bulk but not strength and I was fast, oh Creators yes. Aided by youth, trained from birth, wearing amulets and talismans granting powerful enchantments that Tevinter magisters would envy my body was also augmented by dark arts. I was not nearly as defenseless as I seem and one weapon remains on my waist. Housed in a special, horizontal sheathe that was crafted to be hard to see it joined with the belt just below my lower back. The immaculately sharp dagger once ended a Blight and it would end Loghain the same way.

He bellowed in the quiet hall and it sounded louder than it normally would as he rushed me with his great weapon. It was a half checked one though, meant to draw me in before he changed direction and split me in half. I feinted like I was going to fall for it and he slowed his momentum when he realized I wasn't going to be enticed so easily. The teryn was no darkspawn but a seasoned veteran that would not hack mindlessly away at me. Unfortunately for him I had fought my way across Ferelden and clashed with armored troops many times. I'd also studied the _shem_ war manuals and my goal was to get Loghain to the ground. In his armor he would be easy to kill on his back but first I had to make that happen without losing a limb.

Wisely the teryn worked his blade like a spear, keeping me at distance with thrusts instead of cuts that gave me little opening. Ducking, sliding, faking stutter steps I used every move in my duelist arsenal to avoid dying and get in closer and closer. It likely looked very similar to a dance for the observers except my partner was made of steel. Loghain knew what he was doing and kept a stout defense while his blade whistled by me. One concept stressed to me by human teachers and their fighting theories was to let an opponent defeat themselves. Unarmored and unweighted I moved only my body and I am fresh when the teryn begins to slow from swinging around a weapon larger than I am. He did not begin to breath heavy or become so sluggish that he was easy pickings but his thrusts started coming a little slower, his guards returning with more and more delay.

Seizing an opportunity I fake like I was going to crunch down and then spring at him. Making the move to go lower Loghain saw it coming and brought down his sword in an overhead slash that probably would have cleaved down into my rib cage if I had been there. Instead of coming directly at him in the blow's arc when I jump up I twist my body sideways so my back is parallel to the path his strike. I feel the displaced air it creates on my neck and spin on my foot like an Orlesian bard to twirl into fighting range.

Clamping on to his right hand – his main hand I noticed – I double grip his armored wrist. With his weapon striking the floor in front of us I pull both our weight towards the sword with every ounce of strength I have. He's titled forward slightly from the attack and we both topple onto our faces fighting for control of the handle. It gets braced awkwardly on the way down and stops our combined fall for a brief second before digging into the hall's carpet. The sword flips out of our hands and we finally crash to the floor where I want to be.

Both of us scramble to get up while hampering the other but my advantage is considerable here. I get on top but have forgotten a basic principle that even a disarmed opponent is not helpless and Loghain reminds me with a gigantic gauntlet to the face. The blow rattles my skull and I see stars for a moment. The teryn throws me off while I'm stunned and gets a knee under himself to stand. Woozy and off balance I hurry to prevent it and perhaps without thinking clearly I hurl myself onto him so that I might knock him over. Loghain had weight on his side though and let me run into his plate mail to no effect. Clasping his hands around my back he crushed me in a powerful bear hug against his unforgiving armor.

Unable to breathe I panic for a couple of seconds as I try to break his grip. I wasn't going anywhere and for a moment I think that maybe my luck has finally run out. Some part of my intellect still functioning rationally screams to stab him and I remember that I'm armed. There is a thin line of separation in between the front and back pieces of any plate mail along the sides that is tightly closed but exists no matter how hard an armorer may try. Yanking the cursed dagger from my waist sheath I ram the wicked blade into the thin line. It parts the mail enough to allow itself through and I drive it home. Loghain's grip, incredibly, doesn't let up so I twist and crank the handle like a lever as my lungs burn for air. I feel his body convulse and finally he lets me go.

Gasping for sweet breath I push away from him and the teryn had a look of utter disbelief on his weathered face. Touching the handle of my knife as it sticks out of his ribs he almost seemed to not believe it was real. He grimaced and fell to one knee and I realize something warm is running down my chin. Bringing my palm to my face I bump a lip that's been split open and look at the redness straining my hand. I hate bleeding my own blood.

Stumbling unevenly towards the teryn's broadsword I stoop to pick it up and start dragging it back to him with deadly intent. "Wait! Stop! You have already won!" Anora broke from the sidelines to stand in between us. "There's no need for this!"

The protests bring me back to Thedas and I stop to think of something other than killing Loghain with his own weapon. "Aluhs-" I start before I spit thick glob of crimson to the floor. "Alistair," I enunciate more clearly with red tinted saliva dribbling out of my mouth, "finish this."

"No! Please! He'll repent! He will!" she cried.

"Zevran..." I say in a daze, "restrain the Queen."

The assassin came forward to pull a struggling Anora away by the arm. "No! Stop! I command you!" she screeched.

Furrowing my brown I try to focus on the physical world around me. "If she tries to interfere," I add as I look her in the eyes, "stab her in the heart."

Her eyes widen and she looked in turn from me to the dispassionate assassin over her shoulder. He is often playful and joking but when it comes to business he is as serious as a Blight. I nod to Alistair who moved to the side of the teryn with Maric's blade in his hand. The two men looked at each other and the Warden raised the weapon over his head.

"For Duncan." he pronounced before bringing the runed sword streaking down. The teryn's head rolled down the hall and the rightful king of Ferelden finally took his place on the throne.

* * *

Not so much later. Three weeks after the battle. Much of the city was destroyed or damaged by the ferocious fighting and my own torturous path in the battle to the grand finale was written in blood stains starting in the Market. It is here I find myself wandering around not quite sure what to do. Most people who saw me hailed me either as 'the Warden' – Creators have mercy, there weren't any others around anyway – or this new title, 'Hero'. I didn't care for it but I suppose that humans having an elf hero could only improve relations between our people. I didn't get my hopes up though.

I know why I'm here but I pick around the ruined area anyway. So much has been devastated or falling apart but the city would revive like a wild forest after a purging fire. I see stressed, determined faces hammering away, boarding things up, reshaping twisted lumps of metal that brighten considerably when they see me. I accept their kind words and offer some of my own but I've been in a waking coma for the last three weeks. My capital, almost razed, my lover, spurned and gone, my best friend, stealing my place under the guillotine. For so long I fought the darkspawn menace, Loghain, Ferelden's worst scum and a host of supernatural forces that were fairy tales to most men. Through all of it I had only one end goal in my mind, one moment in time that all paths would lead to: that one horrid event on top of a castle where the fate of an Age was decided. It should have been my Dar'Misaan in the Archdemon's skull, not the glowing, runed longsword on my back. My life to give, not his. How could I have let that happen?

My feet bring me to the place I was working my way towards almost in a dream. The hut along with the building next to it is miraculously standing and only slightly fire damaged. I rap on the door and stand there as the knock goes unanswered. Knocking a second time produced angry footsteps and the door being thrown open.

"Bang any harder and me door'll come apart, ya..." Goldanna trailed off. "...Blighter..."

I don't need to remind her who I am. Copies of my likeness were being handed out all over Ferelden by someone that I didn't commission. There was talk of a statue but I would die before I posed for that.

"You." the woman gathered her limited wits. "What are ya doin' here?"

"What do you think?" I answer distantly.

She looked down and opened the door wider. "Right, well, come in then."

Going just inside the hovel I close it shut behind me and the lower hinge broke off. We both looked down at it and then back to each other. I shrug and the laundress fumes internally. "To what do I owe this visit, O high n' mighty Hero?" she asked with a poor imitation of sarcasm.

"I suppose you heard about Alistair."

"Whole bloody nation's heard of the king. Fancy lot of good it did me being his sister."

"He was going to move you into the palace after the battle." I say disinterestedly as I view the general lack of cleanliness around me.

"Real funny, Warden." she said but I wasn't amused by bad jokes on a good day. When it was apparent to her that I wasn't making things up for my own benefit her face fell. "You ain't lyin'. Don't that just take it. Darkspawn wreck me home, city, kill me brother and king, and on top o' it all, take away a bettah future for me kids. Charmed me life is."

I flash back on skullery maids I've met with more class than this person as she complains a while longer about the entire situation as if I'm even vaguely interested in what she's saying. It slowly dawns on her that either I'm not listening or that I don't care or both.

Whattaya here for, then?" she asked and I refocus.

"He was my brother, family, the way he wished that you had been for him. When you have a comrade like that you take on certain responsibilities if the other person doesn't make it."

For once Goldanna had the sense to keep her mouth shut while I think for a second. "You pay rent here, yes?" I ask as I look around what had to be a leaky, poorly made roof.

"Yeah, it's two..." she started. "Yes."

"Expect a deed for a modest home to be delivered here in the next three months." I advise.

"You're givin' me a house?"

"Alistair wished to help you despite the way you treated him. He would have wanted me to do this."

"You knew him that well, did ya?"

"I did." I confirm. "With your own home you can put all your money towards food and clothing for your children. That should take some strain off the child rearing like he wanted." Her mind seemed to have trouble processing what I said and I wait patiently for her to formulate a response.

"You don't want nothin'?" she finally wondered and if I had the capacity for cruel laughter I would have used it.

"What exactly would I want from you?" I point out. "I do this for his memory, not because I have something to gain and certainly not because I care what happens to you."

She seemed to grasp what I was saying and I have been here far too long. "We'll be in touch." I say as I turn to leave.

"Hold on there. I don't like not bein' square with anyone. There's gotta be some way fer us to be even." she said with surprising character.

"You want to repay me?" I scoff as I force the broken door open. "Pick out the strongest, healthiest of your litter and send them to the Wardens when they're old enough. Just don't expect them to come back."

* * *

The Royal Palace. Queen Anora's quarters. She comes into the room for the night and I am waiting. It is a large space with a ridiculously oversized bed and grand furniture which all provide plenty of places to hide. She comes in, bolts the door and moved to her gilded vanity to begin readying for bed. I lean on the door she had just come in and wait for her to notice me. When she does she yelps and jumps from her seat.

"Maker's breath..." she put a hand to her chest. "Haven't I asked you to not do that?"

"I don't recall."

She makes a face and smooths her dress nervously. "I thought you were in the north."

"I was. I prefer people thinking they know where I am as opposed to actually knowing where I am." I respond.

"The Blight is over, Warden. You needn't be so paranoid still."

"Actually, that's why I came." I push off the door to stand in front of her. "They aren't leaving the surface. Something's wrong."

"You scare the daylights out of me just to deliver that news?" she frowned.

"They're more or less moving north still, spreading in random directions. Most likely you're going to need to send men to protect the roads and more towards the coast to shore up defenses."

She took in a vexed breath through her nose and exhaled the same way. "Warden, I don't appreciate you coming in here and giving me instructions on how to run my kingdom. I'm not Alistair, I'm not a willing pawn."

Over the course of my life I had the tendency to become angry rather quickly and I steady myself to keep my blood from boiling. "I am the Queen of Ferelden and you will do well to remember that." she continued. "And at some point I expect that sword you have on your back to be returned to me. It is state property."

"You will also do well to remember who I am, Anora." I say evenly.

"Queen Anora." she corrected.

"Like you even qualify as royalty." I can't help but slip in.

"I am the sovereign of this nation!" she asserted.

"Your claim is tenuous at best." I remind her disdainfully. "Marrying Cailin, standing on your own for what, a week? Two? Before being deposed by your own father. The only reason you're alive is because you were more useful to him dead and I needed to keep Alistair clean. You're are a pawn, girl, you always have been and don't ever think you'll be anything but."

She smoldered at me but empty threats are all she has. "You're here because Alistair would rather have died that marry you." I add.

"You mean why _you're _here." she shot back. "And you have over stepped your bounds one too many times. I need you right now to marshal forces against the darkspawn. If you continue to behave this way then perhaps I may have been too hasty in giving over lands to your people and need to march southw-"

My hand shocked even myself when it pulled the Thorn and buried it in the head rest a few inches from Anora's skull faster than she could finish the word . Somewhat amazingly she kept a straight face and I am on the border of being impressed when she lets out a trembling puff of air. It was not that she didn't react to me standing over her with my hand still on the dagger, she was simply too petrified to move_._

"Muh...mmm...my guards are outside..." she weakly cautioned me and I lean in even closer.

"Listen well because I'll not say this again." I intone with malice aforethought laced into every word. "Make any move against New Arlathan and I will not miss again. All the guards in the world can't stop me when I want someone dead."

Leaning back I have to work the dagger out of the chair. Anora tries to collect herself but she is visibly shaken. "How quickly the monster shows its true nature." she quivered.

"I was just thinking that about you." I agree. "I knew you were a savvy snake when you betrayed us within ten minutes of freeing you from your father's clutches. Someone as self serving and hollow as you is not fit to hold power."

"And you are?" she dared.

"I forged a disparate hodgepodge of bickering races and peoples into an army that threw back the Blight. What were you doing? Ah yes, sitting here in your castle letting your father steer the country towards a civil war it could ill afford. Do not speak of who is fit to rule."

I take a moment to calm myself and speak a little more rationally. "Your only use was to help legitimize Alistair's ascension to the throne. Without it you are dangerously lacking in value to me. Are we clear?"

"As if I would ever marry the man who murdered my father." she found a little of her backbone when she realized I wasn't going to be killing her at that exact moment. "I have not forgotten that nor will I."

"And I wouldn't think twice about putting your head on a pike and installing Arl Eamon." I cross my arms. "You're wise enough to know what is and isn't good for your survival. I suggest you keep those troop movements in mind."

Taking my leave I move to a large window overlooking the city and unlatch it. "Twice you have threatened my life, there will not be a third!" she called.

"You're right." I acknowledge. "Six inches of steel, Anora. I'm never farther away than that."

I jump out of her window into the night air and leave the Queen with some thinking to do.

* * *

Amaranthine. The Post-Blight. A nobleman was droning on and on and on and I was daydreaming about shooting him full of arrows while he sibilated in a pompous Orlesian accent. When he was finished I turn to my aide Yasta who understands the signal that I wasn't paying one bit of attention to him. She was pretty Ferelden girl who pledged her service to me when I inadvertently saved her carving my way northward to the city. Answering the nobleman she said, "I have recorded the details and the Warden Commander will look over your proposal, milord."

"Excellent." he practically writhed his hands. "We vill be in touch, Commander."

I nod graciously but couldn't care less. From my right side Oghren watches in pure boredom and he at least doesn't even have to pretend to be listening. The last person I need to deal with for the day is another noble but he had with him a commoner clapped in irons. This at least would be somewhat interesting. Carrying himself regally the noble was a squat little man with a shiny head and a crown of short black hair going gray. The prisoner was tall, gaunt and hadn't bathed in some time with long, ratty hair and dirty hands. "Warden Commander, I am-" the nobleman began.

"Skip the introductions, I know who you are." I cut him off irritably. "Why is there a man in chains in my court?"

"This..._cur _named Ehlor is a refugee I caught poaching on my land. I appealed to one of your magistrates to have him executed but he deferred to your authority. As I am well within my rights to do so myself I demand that he be put to death forthwith."

Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea beheading someone last month. I didn't want to give the impression that I was merciless. "What exactly was poached?" I ask.

"Two chickens and their eggs. Would have stolen more if we didn't stop him."

The prisoner was silent and his eyes downcast. I didn't realize how young he was as the wild appearance and height made him look much older. Usually though men were more in a begging mood when their lives were on the line. "You have something to say in your defense?" I ask.

The prisoner mumbled a few words and more forcefully I say, "Speak up, son. Your life depends on it."

"Didn't mean to..." he said so I could hear.

"Didn't mean to? You were running amok on my property for two days!" the nobleman scoffed.

"Explain." I command.

"We're...from West Hill. Darkspawn come through and leveled the farm. Nought to do but head east." he said in a low rumble without lifting his head.

"Who is 'we'?"

"My wife...daughter. Ran outta supplies, no money for food. I was just trying to get them something to eat..."

"You knew what you were doing was wrong, did you not?"

"...yes milord."

"And you did it anyway?"

"For my daughter, yes milord."

"Where are they now?"

"I don't rightly know. They followed me to the keep but no farther."

"Names?"

"Ionae's my wife, Ditra my little girl."

Leaning to my aide I say in a low voice, "Find them and bring them in."

"To the prison?" she gawked.

"No! Inside the keep!" I whisper harshly.

"Oh! Yes, right away."

She slunk off while I turned back to the pair before my seat. "'Tis a minor crime but one that will not go unpunished. Two months of manual labor, unpaid, to provide restitution for your delinquency. And for the Creator's sake, get to a bath so you don't stink up my keep."

"What!?" the nobleman cried. "That is supremely irregular! There is a time for leniency milord but we need every morsel of food we can muster and this wretch stole it from our very mouths! As the land owner I have asked for the maximum penalty!"

"My judgment is binding. I have heard your request and decided on an alternate punishment."

"Outrageous! I demand satisfaction!" he wailed.

"Oghren." I say. The color drains from the noble's red face as the dwarf serves me the giant longsword. One handed to a large human it was just slightly too heavy for quick blade work for me. Still it made for a very impressive showpiece and I rise from the chair to walk down to them. Casting the scabbard aside the glowing runes dance in the hall's light as I make directly to the quaking noble.

"I have an idea. Why don't we ask Alistair what he thinks, hmm?" I heft the blade up in front of me. The noble is sweating when I reach him and I rest the tip of the sword on the floor. "What should we do here, good king?" I ask the weapon. "Go through with it? All right..."

Regarding the noble I say, "You were speaking of wanting satisfaction?"

"Y-yes milord." the contemptible little man squeaked.

"Here then. I give you permission to behead this man, for trying to provide for his family." Holding out the pommel I tilt it towards him. Nervously the nobleman takes the great sword and is unused to the weight. He turned to face the prisoner who towered over him and I could feel his cowardice vibrating through the air.

"Uh...kneel...prisoner." he said. The tall, dirty man finally raised his eyes to his executioner and stared at him hard. He didn't move a muscle. The noble tried to lift the weapon but killing is not nearly as easy as it seems. When the battle is on and one already fears for their life things are different. Murdering a man in cold blood takes practice and a certain numbness. Alistair hits the ground and the noble relinquishes the weapon.

"I...I accept your alternate punishment." he said meekly as I take the sword from his hands.

"Good." I turn from him to fetch the scabbard and sheathe the weapon. Taking my seat as my aide returns I ask, "Did you find them?"

"The watch will bring them in before 'morrow, milord." she answered.

"Get this man to Phaerrel for immediate assignment building fortifications. You have any blacksmithing experience, boy?"

"Yes, yes milord!" he answered hastily.

"See to it he finds lodging, clothes and soap. When his family is found bring them in as well. Half wages for the mother. After two months put them on full payroll if they stay."

"Oh Maker, thank you milord, thank you so much!" he clasped his filthy hands together.

"This isn't charity." I warn. "You and your family will have hard lives but you will not go hungry here. We need every single person we can get readying the city, understood?"

"Yes!"

"If I learn that you've stolen again boy, I will not be so lenient a second time. You are all dismissed."

The guards and sycophants file out of the room until I am left with only the dwarf and my aide. Leaning back in my chair with Alistair across my lap I breath out a heavy sigh. "I can't believe this is what men kill each other over, being ruler. It has to be the worst job in the land."

"You do it well." Yasta smiled as she sat on the chair's arm.

"Eh."

"Are you going straight to your chambers now?"

"Yes. An early night is just what I need. It'll be nice to be by myself for a while."

I never thought of her in a romantic way but the feeling wasn't mutual. She reached down to put her hand over mine and said, "You don't have to be alone..."

Looking up at her I smile sadly. The human runs her hand through the hair on the top of my head and I have to admit, I am tempted. "If you ever need someone to talk to, just ask." she said and squeezed my shoulder. Sliding off the chair she sauntered away and I pinch the bridge of my nose as Oghren comes up to join me.

"I should quit. Find work as a fletcher or something boring like that." I say.

"No chance." he said gruffly.

"What do you think, old friend?" I pat the sword across my knees. "Do I have a career in menial labor ahead of me?"

"Heh...I wasn't gonna say nothin'...but we gotta talk about that sword of yers." the dwarf spoke up.

"Alistair?"

"Yeah...'Alistair'." he repeated. "Ye been carryin' it around like a wet behind the ears runt does with a blanket. Why'd you name it that?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Oghren." I dismiss. "It's no one's business but my own."

"And yer mood's been...worse than usual."

"What do you care all of a sudden?" I lash out.

"Look...I consider ye a brother, more than those sodding Stone sensing bastards back in Orzamar. I know that look on yer face when ye talk about what happened. Same one I had when Branka left me behind. 'Cept ye don't drink enough to make it right."

I rub my eyes tiredly. I'd lost so much the last few years that upheaval seemed commonplace. Here and now though I seemed to be low on friends and up to my ears in enemies. It weighed on me heavier than I thought it would. "Ain't no shame in askin' for help with yer problems. Dinnit ye once tell me that, long time ago?"

The dwarf had me there. I never thought he would be the person giving me advice one day. "It's not just Alistair. It's Morrigan." I admit.

"Miss yer lady friend, eh? I know all about that. Better'n most. What's stoppin' ye from layin' into Yasta?"

"No, you don't understand." I force myself to continue. "I felt something the other day...a powerful, distant sadness."

"Eh?"

"Remember the ring she found me with, back when Loghain's men arrested me? She always knows where I am with it. Sometimes I get inklings, tiny hints of her state of mind, just traces. Nothing major. Until recently."

"What happened?" he asked through his alcohol soaked whiskers. I can't believe this is really the closest friend I have right now to have a serious conversation with.

"I felt something...much stronger than ever before. A profound sadness, a soul crushing bleakness. I...don't understand it. I don't know what to do."

"Morrigan left ye, high'n dry, when we needed the bitch the most." he reminded me. "Ye tellin' me the feelin' you got now was worse then? 'Cause if it was, she ain't got no soul and yer better off."

"But what if she's-" I begin but he waved me off.

"Ain't yer problem no more. Ye say she always knows where ye at? What's stoppin' her from droppin' by?"

I open my mouth to argue but no argument comes out. A drunken, half psychotic dwarf whose wife left him and cheated on him was making a fool of me when it came to this situation. He was right. Whatever the feeling meant, there was little I could do about even if I didn't have my hands full here in Amaranthine. I had no idea where she was or even where to start looking for her and even if I did, odds were that she would just run. I would have to literally pursue her like I was tracking an enemy just to talk to her. I drop my face in my hands in silent defeat. "I miss her, Oghren. I miss them both. When is it going to stop hurting?"

He put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Stone bless ye boy, it won't ever stop. Ye gotta keep him right here," he tapped on his sternum, "and forget the witch ever existed. Keep on movin' forward either way. Ain't nobody gonna keep this land together 'cept you."

I take in a cleansing deep breath and exhale as I lean back on my chair. "I wanted...I don't know. I didn't want to say goodbye. He was my best friend. This sword is a memory, a legacy. In his hands it stopped the Blight. Other Wardens will take it up when you and I are long gone. I want his story carried with it, always. When future Wardens cut through darkspawn brains, it will be Alistair doing the cutting."

At first the dwarf stared dully, then he chuckled, "Heh. Heheheh. Heheheh!" before he broke into a roaring guffaw that cut through my sour mood and I could not help but join. It was nice to laugh for once.


	4. The Amulet

The Fade, my physical body asleep while my spirit explores another world. It is a wondrous place and I am having the time of my life in it. Demonic entities, mortal danger, forces beyond my control or understanding all conspire against me but I moved through the dream world joyously the way a star struck traveler soaks in a foreign land. It is a heady mix of real and gossamer that feels equal parts abstract fantasy and visceral combat. Instead of being showered with vitals and stepping over bodies I feel enemy spirits lessen with each blow and dissipate when defeated. By the time I've acquired all of the forms granted to me by the shades here I envy mages and their access to this place. If I wasn't being slowly drained of my life force by the demon Sloth, I would stay longer.

All good things must come to an end and I begin bringing down the strongest demons in charge of Sloth's prison. They fell like all the others and it is the desire demon Yevena's turn at the moment. Thoroughly weakened and beaten by a mix of shape shifting, magical power and dueling prowess she has little left. Kicking her bodily to the ground I advance on the demoness with my dream blade scraping against the floor.

"Wait!" she holds up a purple hand as I raise the weapon high for a killing blow.

"Give me one good reason why I should." I sneer.

"Spare me and I will unlock the way to Sloth for you!" it beseeched in that sinfully alluring voice backed by a heavy, inhumanely deep echo just behind it.

"I accomplish the same destroying you, what kind of deal is this?"

"There is a longing in you, one you cannot satisfy." she spoke rapidly. "I can do more than she ever could, and no one will have to know..."

Unlike humans my people considered the Fade simply another world with wicked and goodly folk just like Thedas. I did not consider dealing with demons immoral any more than I would dealing with humans except an extreme amount of caution had to be observed. They were as tricky as Falon'Din and twice as ruthless but would keep their end of the bargain if you kept yours. My sword dips down to my side as I consider it. I wouldn't dare tell a living soul about the longing she spoke of as it was especially shameful but privately I could not deny it existed.

"Do it then. Unlock the way." I order and she immediately twists her hand in the air. I feel the same grinding shift that accompanied the other guardians' deaths to show that she had done her part. Hesitantly I sheathe my weapon expecting an ambush any moment but she crawls on all fours over to me. Grasping my belt and pulls herself up to her knees and then grips my collar to lift herself to her feet. To my shock she is wearing the witch's face when she comes up and I recoil.

"Undo that." I shudder and before I can think she had her original visage back on to flash a devious smile.

"You won't regret anything..." she promised with saccharine sweetness. It should have been harder to talk me into this or I should have required something else in exchange but it was a little late now with the deal struck and the demon starting to deftly unfasten my armor with her tongue.

Maybe next time.

* * *

Northern Ferelden. West of Highever. I had pulled some strings and greased a few palms but everything was ready in theory. Out in the middle of nowhere in a shack I stand with the blood mage Janos. He owes me his life and livelihood and I was now getting a return on my investment. A powerful amulet in the shape of a heart was snug around my neck and opened a channel to the Fade through me. It made my body tingle but this was only just the beginning.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Janos asked for the third time.

"Of course it isn't." I chastise. "Now do it."

Amping up his arcane abilities the mage washed me in power and with a steady supply of lyrium he cast me into myself. It felt like I was pulled inside my own chest upside down and covered in freezing needles that pricked every inch of my skin. The sensation lasts only a few moments and I come to in the Beyond. Oddly it is lacking in the buildings and ancient ruins like before and exists more like a great, darkened forest with shifting shadows on everything. I remember my aspects and change into a powerful spirit to make sure I will be prepared if there's a fight. Shifting back to human form I utter a single word.

"Koryphasia." I call out to her. We had met twice earlier both inside and outside the Fade and this one kept her word. The forest, quiet and frozen unlike a real one, ripples and sways as I perceive something enter into my space.

"Well..." the seductive, horror-tinged voice emerged first from the spectral trees. Her hands touched down on my shoulders from behind me a moment later and I stay where I am as the demon's hot breath caresses the back of my neck. "You have returned."

"I said I would have need of you, didn't I?"

"Mmm..." she murmured, smelling like forest berries native to the Brecelian. "So you did. Why did you come here? It is not a place for mortals...well...maybe not one such as you..."

"I have always dealt fairly with you spirits, no?" I ask. Creators, Zevran had me adding that to my questions now.

"Your reputation is admirably ruthless." she agreed.

"I offer you a deal, Koryphasia. I am in possession of certain tomes on blood magic and have a blood mage willing to act on my behalf."

She came around to press her bare chest against me and cradle her arms behind my neck as if we were young lovers at a festival dance. "I like this already." she rolled her tongue in her mouth.

"I can't replicate the research without being a mage myself. I need a connection to the Fade stronger than the one I was born with naturally. I am however wearing an amulet that burrows a path to your realm. What I propose is simple: I offer blood unto you, through my channel. You gain the power and funnel it back to me."

"Clever, Warden..." the sniffed along my neck as a hound does. "And what do you wish to gain?"

"I need to be faster, stronger, react quicker, go farther, live longer than a mortal man normally could. I need to be able to absorb blows that would kill lesser men. There is an Archdemon out there somewhere that I am destined to engage in mortal combat with. We must conspire to shatter my mortal limits."

"Mmm...yes...your passions, your lusts, they are powerful, Warden. I will do this and together we will become unstoppable."

"Good. I will contact you when I am ready to begin."

One of her hands detached from my neck and slid down my shoulder, arm, then forearm. She interlaced her fingers with mine and leaned in so that her demonic features were all I could see. "Shall we...consummate this deal?" she asked. I admit to myself that sometimes I am a weak man. Her mouth tastes like sweet honey.

* * *

The road. Outside Denerim. The wagon does not do well in the rough, rocky terrain of the Coastlands. The beaten path served well enough to this point but the last leg would have to be made slowly. The wooden vehicle was some twenty feet long and and quite high so we stuck out like a sore thumb against the greenery. We made the best time we could getting to the work site and at least I wouldn't be bothered by allies wondering where I am. It was not hard for one person to move around Ferelden quickly and I had many reasons to head to places by myself without my war party present.

The wagon's driver was an obnoxious little human who never shut up the entire trip. He had a thousand stories of the road and each one seemed to somehow wind back to the "fact" that he was incredibly famous. I'd never heard of the man but he would have you believe that he was the most feared warrior in the land during his youth and folk treated him like royalty to this day. I bit back the burning question of why he drove carts for a living if any of this was even halfway true until we sight our destination with the last vestiges of daylight filtering through sparse clouds. The wind always smells vaguely of sea salt even this far inland and I think of how it has been forever since I went out into the land just for a hike.

"Kinda small, innit?" he asked me when we stop and I have to remember why the loathsome man is here.

"I didn't build the place. Come on around the back." I answer.

We hop down from the wagon and I lead the driver to the rear of the two small structures that were joined together. Opening the door for him I usher the driver inside and shut it the moment we're both past the threshold. The room is occupied by six stone slabs surrounding a central one, all angled downwards to the middle of the room. They had bindings for restraining the subjects and a large furnace was built into the wall on the left. Jonas was standing at the back of the room holding open the detailed notes on Avernus' research and froze. The maleficar looked positively aghast when he saw us and the color left his face.

"What the- who is he!?" the mage blurted.

"What in the Maker's name-" the driver got out before I rap on the back of his skull with the blackjack I'd palmed moments earlier. He swayed on his feet before tilting over and I catch him to sweep the pungent man off his feet.

"Could have bloody well warned me!" Jonas said angrily.

"And miss that look on your face?" I smile as I lay the driver down on the nearest slab.

"How did it go?" he asked when he was done smoothing his robes.

"Ah, you know, the cloak and dagger bit aside, fairly well." I explain as I loop the ropes around the subject's wrists and ankles.

"I just want to be sure we can't be traced."

"Janos, I have enough people trying to kill me without adding 'blood trafficking' to my list of objectionable activities." I say as I strap down the torso. "The only people who know about this place are me, you and this insufferable fool."

"How many more outside?" he wondered anxiously.

"Eleven."

"How tidy of you."

"I strive for speed and accuracy in my work." I chuckle as I thoroughly gag the driver. Lifting up his lolling head I slip a black hood over it.

"May I assume you brought my gold?"

"Janos, you insult me. I"m a man of my word and to the letter."

"I was just asking."

The driver was thankfully helpless and gagged so I look around for any other preparations that need to be made. "Ready for them?"

"Yes..." he agreed hesitantly.

"What?"

"You know this is probably going to be incredibly painful, right?"

"Lucky for them they'll be dead shortly afterward."

"No...I mean for you." he clarified.

"Oh..."

"It's kind of going to be like when I sent you into the Fade, only much worse."

"Well, that does sound most disagreeable." I muse. "Unfortunately it is a little late for wet feet."

"Cold feet."

"Whatever. I'll start bringing them in. Prepare yourself."

Thirty minutes later we were set and I was lying naked on the center slab. At this point most of the subjects knew something terrible was going to happen to them and fought helplessly against their bonds while trying to talk or plead. Janos stood over me with the ancient Warden's book in one hand and a dagger in the other. The heart amulet was cold against my skin and finally here and now I wasn't sure if this was such a good idea.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked.

"No. Go on then." I order and he plunged the knife into my chest.

* * *

The night time camp. A certain person's large tent. Gasping for breath I roll onto my back on top of the thick sleeping furs. The air in here has gone from slightly less cold than outside to stuffy and overly warm since I arrived. Laying together with the witch in a tumbled mess of naked limbs and sweat I somehow have the presence of mind to know that this is as good as it will ever get for me. The moments that I did not have here with Morrigan would be spent on the road, in a battle or finally dying, even in victory. Lying here with her like this, these memories would be the only pleasant things to break up a life of pain.

Our black, long heads of hair tangle together and right now my crushing duties and thousands of worries seem far away. We lay there for many minutes getting our wind back and enjoying the after glow. I'm so relaxed that when I close my eyes a moment I almost fall asleep right there.

"Miss me?" she teased and I jolt awake.

"Ach..." I scrunch my face. "What do you mean?"

"It has been a whole two days since you were here last. Yet you ravage me like we'd not seen each other in weeks." she gloated.

"Ahm, yes, well, I'm sure there's a bit in here about upcoming battles or making the best of what time we have but I don't give a damn right now."

She laughed and constricted me a little tighter. Running her finger along my chest she stopped at the heart amulet fit snugly around my neck. "You never take this off." the witch murmured.

"Picked it up from the Circle when we last passed through. Opens a channel to the Fade."

"Hmm."

"Irving said it will work better the longer I wear it." I lie.

"Pfft. Circle magi." she snorted.

"It makes me stronger, give me more energy."

"Hmm, rather like it then." she said contentedly. "I was going to ask. You feel different."

"Different? How?" I feign only a passing interest.

"I don't know. I sense a bit of the Fade in you but it feels distant and cold."

"Superb. I love the Beyond. Wish I had been born one of you."

"Be careful what you wish for. You may get it."

"Then I wish for a bitchy apostate who hates everyone that wants me to go spelunking in her swamp cave on a regular basis."

She reaches up to attack me but I know its coming and wrap her arms up before she can. "Unhand me, elf!" she demands to my amusement. "Your damn locket is freezing cold."

"Is it?" I blink. "Feels perfectly warm to me."

"Be careful with that." she warned seriously. "The Fade has a way of sneaking up on you."

"What are you, my keeper? Don't worry. I can always just take it off."

"Take it off now, then."

"Well now I don't want to." I resist.

"Hopeless..." she shook her head.

"Speaking of things I want..." my gaze moves to her lipstick smeared mouth. "You want to go again?"

"We just finished!"

"That was several minutes ago."

"I need to rest a bit more. You're going to break something down there continuing on like this." she complained.

"I can get Wynne to watch just in case we need a healer nearby." I offer.

"I will literally kill you." she glowered but I can only laugh.

"Shale then?"

* * *

"It's not enough." Janos crossed his arms.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Your payment. It's not enough." he repeated.

"This is what we agreed on." I assert.

"Well we need to renegotiate then." he said scornfully. "You're getting every ounce of power from these little rituals and I'm stuck in this hovel doing your dirty work."

"Stuck?" I echo in outrage. "You are here because when I found you the templars were hours from picking you up and burning you in a pyre. They so much as smell you and there'll be three feet of steel in your heart."

"What good is the gold piling up if I can't even enjoy it?" he complained. "I want to move to Denerim, somewhere fancy."

"Denerim!? Are you mad!?" I explode. "Do you have any idea how difficult it will be moving live bodies in the city!? Not to mention hiding you and your workspace from a place crawling with templars and Loghain's spies!"

"You're a powerful man, you can make it happen." he said stubbornly.

"Janos, this is your _life _we're talking about. If one errant guardsman investigates, one nosy citizen sees something he shouldn't, I can't stop the entire Chantry from coming down on you."

"I'll be careful." he promised. "And in the city I can get subjects of my own."

"Ah." The candle flickers lit in my head. "The ulterior motive reveals itself."

"You told me Avernus was alive for more than two centuries. His research is a font of immortality that you conveniently keep for yourself. I think I deserve a share in the spoils seeing as I am the one performing your rituals. That or you can find yourself another blood mage, Warden!" he huffed.

I sigh to myself. He did have a point. "How much?"

"Five sovereigns a head." he stipulated shrewdly. "And a new place in Denerim within the month."

"I'll see what I can do." I relent.

"Good." he nodded and turned back to his notes on the table. "I don't mean to be difficult Warden but I wish to have a fair deal in all of this."

One of my most prized possessions is an extremely rare, long piercing dagger from the First Blight. A masterwork of a distant Age it was crafted from the shards of the blade that killed the first Archdemon. An uncanny and frightening weapon it sought weak points and vital organs almost as if drawn to them by magnetism. From many battles against human, elven, unholy and darkspawn opponents I knew that a single enemy mage could change the course of an entire fight. This wicked dagger, this Thorn Of The Dead Gods was usually my first choice in stopping that threat before it began. Housed in a special sheathe built into my belt I never went anywhere without it, not even an amorous companion's quarters.

One of my arms snakes under his to clamp over Janos' mouth and the other rams the cursed dagger through his back into his heart. He doesn't scream, even when I twist the knife and finish the job. The maleficar slumps against me and I support his body as the life quickly drains out of him. It was an unfortunate incident but the mage forced my hand. He only spasms a little longer and I lay the fresh corpse on his face before yanking my knife out. Cleaning it on his robe as the blood pools on the floor I look around the modest and rather humdrum living space. There's a small shelf of his books, Avernus' research and his own findings added to them lined up neatly there.

I collect both his and Avernus' work to leave on the large dining table. Rifling through what's left I skim tomes on magical theory and templar dissertations on blood magic. Dropping the books on the floor as I finish with each one I move to the diminutive kitchen and start throwing everything out onto the ground. Tossing down pots, pans, dry goods and everything else I find I tear the place apart. Going to his nearby bed I flip the mattress over and cut it open. Pulling out all of the stuffing I discover nothing out of the ordinary. There is nowhere else to store things in the room but I'm not convinced so easily. Stepping over the mattress innards my foot makes an odd sound where it lands. Tapping a couple of times I hear it again and follow the sound to where it makes the most deep resonation.

Prying open loose floor boards I hit pay dirt: a hollow cavity containing a sack that jingles when I remove it and a cloth wrapped book. Stepping over the body but unable to avoid the blood puddle I add the items to the others on the table. Opening the sack first I find the lion's share of gold I'd paid Jonas. I wondered what he spent his money on other than food but apparently it wasn't much. Unwrapping the book next I expect it to be some kind of secret maleficar instruction manual but when I crack it open I find it to be much worse. Scanning line after line my eyes widen at what I had found.

This was no arcane tome but a detailed, thorough and meticulously kept ledger of all my business with the apostate. He recorded dates, times, the names of my subjects if he learned them, how much he was paid, and absolutely every detail I ever mentioned about where they came from. Everything was documented with the care and exactness of a royal tax collector and I am horrified to realize that Janos was planning to blackmail me at some point. Bastard! If I could kill him twice I would.

It takes me the better part of three hours to prepare everything. Janos, his hut, the attached work shed where we performed the rituals and cremated the remains, his damning records all went up in a glorious, blazing inferno. The starry night sky provided a pleasant backdrop as I watch everything tying me to this place go up in smoke. Yet another good reason to conduct my business so far from civilization. True that Janos was a significant investment but I had received quite a bit in return. All the skulking, clandestine deals and captured foes had given me a body that grew stronger and faster over time. There was also no telling how long I had extended my life span past the thirty years the darkspawn taint had given me. Perhaps it was time to move on.

I start my journey back when I hear a very faint voice say, "No...not yet..."

Whipping around with a dagger in my hand I look about the well lit landscape for the source of the sound. There is no one that I can see with the ample light of the cottage sized fire and I do not sense anyone or anything nearby. Something strange was going on.

"Mmmm...so...alive..." the voice focused and became clearer. I immediately recognize the inhumanely low pitched, double toned speech that only denizens of the Fade could produce.

"Koryphasia!?" I gasp.

"Killing the mage...regrettable. Replace him soon." she gently urged across the Veil.

"How are you-" I cut myself off. Ah. The amulet. "I think our arrangement has run its course. Look me up sometime if you're ever in Ferelden." I say aloud.

I snap the amulet off my neck and toss it aside. No Fade channel, no-

"Ooooh no...too late for that now..." the demon whispered in delight.

I freeze. Nothing much scares me anymore but my stomach flips and a slow terror creeps into my bones. It dawns on me that this is terribly, terribly wrong. "_Elgar'non_..." I breathe just audibly.

"Yes...you understand now, don't you?" she continued. I could almost see her serrated smile waiting to devour me. "No mere trinket joins us anymore. We are one."

"No, no that's impossible." I desperately deny.

"You will continue to make us stronger." she instructed.

"No...I..I won't." I refuse but my voice sounds weak and empty.

"Pick up the amulet and put it back on." she ordered and I would swear I felt her hot breath on the back of my neck. My feet move on their own accord and my mind wails as I walk over to the tiny piece of metal. A prisoner in my own body I can only watch as my hands pick up and retie the charm around my neck.

"Good, good..." she purred and I feel light headed from the sickly sweet aroma of her delicious demon skin. "Find another to do our bidding. I will be waiting...my pet."

Creators have mercy, what have I done?

* * *

Southern Ferelden. At long last, I had found it. Deep in an abandoned ruin, not unlike the sundered Veil at Soldier's Peak, a bit of reality came undone. The basement section where some ancient atrocity was committed held a much smaller but just as tangible rip; if the one at the Peak was a gate, this one was a window. It would be enough for my purposes and I was alarmed to discover that I could feel the energy of the Beyond without the aid of a mage. I had taken precautions this time and was wearing every trinket boosting mental strength I could get my hands on. She would have to exert an extreme amount of power to influence me now.

Reaching out to the touch the Veil that was both there and not there I project my voice but more my intention into the rip. "Koryphasia." I summon her through the gossamer cloud.

"My Warden..." she said immediately and I had to believe that the voice came from the Fade and not from within. Appearing before me first almost completely opaque she became denser and denser with each step until she was fully real standing there. Her viper smile showed itself and her horned head beckoned me closer. "Why don't you reach out and touch me? I'll do all the things the other girls won't..." she teased with that freakish double voice effect.

When she spoke I felt something bounce off me for lack of a better term. If it was an attempt to move me against my will I sincerely hoped that the expensive charms were working. I have to chuckle at her offer though. "I'm seeing someone now. She's the jealous type."

"How boring." she gently hissed and groped herself.

"I want out, spirit. I want the channel closed."

"And why would I do that?" she stalked around me. "You are the most capable and cunning mortal ever in my service. A bottomless wellspring of need you are. We're made for each other, both becoming stronger than we ever could alone. I know you feel it, I know you love it that you move faster than you ever could before...why stop?"

"What will it take to get you to close it?"

"You cannot barter with me, Warden!" she raised her voice. "I own you and I will not give you up!"

"We've had a good working relationship but now it has to end. I am asking you to release me before I have to resort to force."

She laughed cruelly and mocked, "Force? All your strength will do you no good out there."

"True. But you are not beyond my reach. I will see you on your home turf soon enough. Goodbye."

I turn to leave and the demon said, "You're bluffing!"

"You better hope I'm not." I halt and look over my shoulder to say. "You know me better than any other Fade spirit. Am I the kind of person to make empty threats?"

The demon processed it and looked very human doing so. "This is your one and only chance to barter." I offer. "I walk out of here and the next time you see me it will be with mages coming to end you."

"You have fed us many souls, Warden! I am too powerful now!" it shrieked.

"For a squad of mages, yes, probably." I acknowledge.

"You see?"

"How about two score? An entire Circle?"

If the demon was shocked there was no discerning it from her reptilian eyes. "All right, it's your funeral." I shrug.

"Wait!" she held out a hand. "Let's not be so hasty. Perhaps we can deal after all."

"Be quick about it, Koryphasia. I have a lot of lyrium to track down."

"What if I close the channel halfway? You retain the ability to offer unto me should you wish and I have a reduced conduit for experiencing your delicious emotions..."

"No." I shake my head. "Close it all the way or face destruction."

"It is not so simple a thing, Warden." she warned. "The channel exists in both worlds, a line with two ends. It cannot be shut without equal power to oppose it."

"Huh. So I'd have to sacrifice just as many people to close it?"

"Yes..."

"No deal. Killing you is easier."

"Hold, there is another way!" she protested.

"I'm listening."

"Instead of destroying the channel it can be...moved."

"Moved?"

"If you were to bring another mortal brimming with desire and little defense, I could transplant your channel unto him." it said seductively with that infernal echo.

"Attach it to someone else..." I said aloud as my mind worked.

"Yesssss..." she came around behind me. "Another with passion like you...powerful...in need..." My thoughts raced as I tried to think of where and how I could find such a soul while also condemning that person to a possible nightmarish existence. The demon pressed her soft, bare chest against my back and licked the entire side of my face with a foot long tongue that I should have never allowed near myself.

"All right." I agree and wipe her honey-flavored saliva from my cheek. "I'll find someone."

"Excellent." Koryphasia bit her lip while squeezing my thigh.

"I'll warn you like the all rest: cross me and I will tear the Fade apart to find you."

* * *

I had ridden for two days, my back and legs were sore, my horse and I both tired. Returning to the distant ruin at last I slow the beast to a walk until we finally come to a stop. Tying it up on what was left of a stone edifice I begin to cut free my cargo. The hooded man thrashed ineffectually against his bonds and I contemptuously throw him off the end of the horse to the ground. He lands hard from the almost six foot drop and groans painfully as I circle around to him. Yanking his hood off I immediately regret doing so. His wild, matted, filthy hair and reeking skin hit my nose, reflexively forcing me to lift my hand to my face. The human's fuming, red eyes glare balefully and I loose his gag. Moving his jaw and attempting to moisten his mouth he regards me for a moment.

"Knife ear." he spat. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Of course I do. Get up and start walking." I order.

"Ya know what my men'll do ta ya? Ya'll wish fer death."

"On you feet." I repeat.

"Go to hell, wood louse."

I haul him up but the bandit lets his body go limp and he tumbles back to the ground. Taking in an annoyed breath through my nose I put his hood back on and grip the rope lashing his hands together. Dragging him along makes the bandit laugh and he said jovially, "Don't get tired now!"

Bringing him to a small rock I put his hands down on it to force his fingers to splay out. Slipping free a chopping dagger I lop off his pinky. The bandit screams and I step back to wipe my knife on the grass. Howling obscenities mixed with very specific death threats he writhes back and forth for a spell as he bleeds all over himself. Giving the human a minute or so I then plant my knee on his chest and sit down on him. Whipping the hood back off and holding my dagger in the other hand I wait for him to focus on me. His eyes are fuming but when he realizes how helpless he is he shuts up right quick.

"Get up and walk, or I take another." I instruct and he hesitantly nods. Standing back I allow the bandit to get to his feet with some difficulty on his part.

"Who are you? What are you going to do with me?" he asked much less defiantly.

"I'm the Dread Wolf." I answer. "Walk."

Clutching his bleeding stump as best he could he eyed me with suspicion and fear but did as he was told. Together we left the bright green world to descend down into a dark, shadowy basement that one had to squint to see in. As the natural light of the sun faded the otherworldly glow of the sundered Veil took over and allowed us to see in the depths of the once grand structure.

"What is that?" he breathed when he saw the shifting, hypnotizing vortex.

"Koryphasia, I'm here." I say and ignore him. I felt her stir and in moments the demoness came strolling through the mist with her hips rocking back and forth hypnotically. I have to shake myself from watching her bare legs move to meet her gaze.

"Faithful and true you ever are, Warden." she smiled with glittering, sharpened teeth that I catch myself admiring.

"When necessary." I answer.

"Who are ya talking to...?" the bandit asked.

"Is this one of sufficient desire?" she wondered and sucked on her finger.

"Magyar the Red, leader of small alliance of bandit groups who joined together. Wanted for robbery, murder and rape. Was planning on carving out a territory for himself to raid from and creatively naming it...Magyar."

"Hmmm...he will do nicely. Prepare yourself, Warden."

Walking over to the dazzled bandit she put her hand over his eyes. Slowly he stopped shaking and asked aloud, "Who's that? Who's there?"

Something not of my physical body snapped, twisted and was cruelly ripped out of me. I fall to the ground in pain almost intense enough to make me faint I cannot not describe adequately in words the feeling. It was as if my nerves had turned to well salted razors and were all being pulled out of my body simultaneously. My mouth twists in silent agony until the intense searing suddenly stops and I convulse for a few moments in the fetal position. Forcing myself up with an arm lest I appear weak enough to finish off I pant in the dark while Magyar looks glossy eyed and far away. I'd seen that once before, in the Circle Tower on a templar's face that was completely lost in a desire demon's spell. I hope that she brutalizes the bandit in ways I can't even think of.

Climbing to unsteady feet I can see the demon but not feel her nor the Fade even with it so close. "Is it done?" I wheeze.

"Truly." she growled. "This ruffian will do nicely."

"Then we are done."

"For now." she said with a wicked gleam in her reptilian eyes. Putting an arm around my waist she pressed herself against me and added, "There will come a day when you need me again Warden...and I will be anxiously waiting, my love."

Despite everything, I had to grin. I certainly hoped not.

* * *

Back in Amaranthine. I shake my head as I put the amulet back. A lesson learned, a possibly ugly end averted. I know that Koryphasia is out there somewhere, stronger than ever and maybe one day I would have to deal with her again. But I had agreed to leave her alone and she kept her end of the bargain. Reminiscing a bit longer I am interrupted by a knock on my door. "Enter." I say.

My personal aide Valemor comes in and bows his head at me which I return with a nod. A fellow elf he was an enthusiastic supporter if city born. He was at least clothed in Dalish textiles hand made by my people for centuries. I have been pushing them to take up as many useful crafts as possible and stressed tradable goods. There was resistance of course but change was always resisted. With the help of King Harrowmont I had dwarven merchants both peddling New Arlathan's goods and teaching her starry eyed recruits how to buy and sell. It wasn't going to be easy rejoining the rest of the world but now that we had a home I had a moral obligation to make sure it stayed there.

I'm so busy thinking about the quality of my aide's cloth that I forget he was there. "Yes?"

"My lord!" he saluted.

"At ease boy, no need to be so formal."

"Of course. I'm sorry. Message from the Hinterlands." he said and handed me a short missive that wasn't sealed but had been unfolded at least twice.

"Valemor, if you read my messages again I will have you horse whipped." I say as I unfold the letter.

He went white as a ghost and blubbered, "I'm so-sorry my lord! I um...it was not...it will never happen again!"

"I'm kidding."

"Oh thank the Maker-"

"But you have disappointed me by getting caught. Be more careful next time. If you fold along the original creases it won't be so obvious. I won't have you whipped but I will have you cleaning nug droppings for a week." I admonish as I scan the note. It is only a few sentences long but has a plethora of implications. My head snaps up suddenly and the city elf is taken aback by the motion.

"When did this arrive?" I demand.

"Earlier this morning."

"Do you know this particular informant?"

"No, milord."

"Find out where exactly he is posted. Fetch me my longsword and string my bow. Take the former to the rune smith and have my strongest flame runes grafted. Get a horse ready for me in less than thirty minutes." I rattle off as I begin shuffling papers into drawers.

"Are you leaving!?" he asked shrilly.

"Yes, forthwith."

"But why, where?"

"The Hinterlands, at first. Captain Oghren will be in charge until I get back."

The aide got panicky and said, "But milord, you are due in Orzamar in a matter of weeks!"

"Then I shall hurry. Go on now, don't make me repeat myself."

"Ye-yes milord!" he scurried from the room. Plans were already racing through my mind about my path there and how long it would take. Snow would be falling and I did have quite a bit on my plate in the coming months but these things would have to wait. I had been giving myself to the land for so long that I deserved to do something for myself for a change. After two years, I finally had a lead. I didn't know what would happen when and if I found her but I'd never forgotten the witch for a moment. Long overdue answers awaited and I quickly finish tidying up to go get my house in order before I depart. Visions of rocky highlands and yellow eyes danced in my head as I left the room full of memories empty once more.

The End


End file.
